Shatterpoint
by Ace of Gallifrey
Summary: What if Lois had been the one to speak with Jor-El at the beginning of "Zod?" Charged by Jor-El to protect Earth in the wake of his son's failure, Lois takes action. In the aftermath, she begins an investigation that changes the lives of her friends in small but significant ways. AUTHOR'S NOTE ADDED TO ANNOUNCE: THIS STORY WILL BE CONTINUED
1. Prologue

**Title-** Shatterpoint**  
>CharactersPairings-** Lollie to start which will lead into Clois, Chimmy, and of course Lexana**  
>Rating- <strong>If you can watch Smallville, you can read this**  
>Summary-<strong> What if Lois, not Martha, had been the one to speak with Jor-El at the beginning of Zod? Charged by Jor-El to protect Earth in the wake of his son's failure, Lois returns to Smallville... and her actions set her up for a surprising collision course with Fate.

**A/N-** As much as I loved the idea that a facsimile of Krypton was Lois Lane's idea of heaven (not to mention the startling implication that Jor-El protected her that day in the Arctic and the realization that Jor-El actually likes someone in his son's life, at least enough to keep her warm and make her feel welcome) and the ridiculous amount of plot bunnies _that_ has inspired, I gotta say, if I were Jor-El and I wanted someone to slay the hell out my friend-turned-nemesis (who, due to Fate's twisted sense of humor, was possessing the body of my only son's friend-turned-nemesis), I can't think of anyone I'd want more for the job than Lois Lane. Well, maybe Buffy, but she was kinda busy just then, so Lois is as good a second as you could hope for.

Hence this Season 6 rewrite fic, in which Lois puts all her badassery to good use, and in which I take some major liberties with Superman canon and the legend of Naman because fuck canon, it's fanfiction and I do what I want (within reason, of course, and since everything I'm planning on doing actually has Smallville precedent, I think I'm justified). And now that I've offended and/or frightened away all potential readers with my pottymouth and belligerence... on with the show!

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><p>Prologue<p>

"_In sand and thorns_  
><em>I'm walking forth,<em>  
><em>Bare and blinking as the<em>  
><em>day that I was born.<em>  
><em>Bells in spires of china white<em>  
><em>Ring for an Augustine tonight<em>."  
>-Vienna Teng<p>

* * *

><p>It wasn't the noise that woke her, it was the cold. The deep, pressing chill that reminded her of St. Petersburg in December, or Chicago in January, that somehow managed to find her skin no matter how many layers she was wearing... and to be honest, since she had been on her way to Washington D.C. in August, she hadn't worn all that many layers. Once the cold had worked its way down through her silken blouse and pricked at her skin until she was well on her way to consciousness, her ears started to work again and she picked up on the roaring sound of the wind that was driving the frigid air currents.<p>

That brought her fully back to herself, and Lois opened her eyes. The first thing that fell in her line of vision was the limply dangling bag of an oxygen mask.

For a moment, Lois was bewildered, trying to work out what had happened. Then it all came back to her in one dizzying rush. She remembered gasping for breath as the cabin pressure dropped, remembered Mrs. Kent falling to the floor, remembered struggling to her own last breaths in a desperate attempt to bring down the oxygen mask to save the woman who had become like a mother to her.

At that thought, Lois sat up abruptly, letting out a gasp of pain as she felt her badly bruised muscles protest viciously against the movement. Ignoring her own injuries for the time being, she rolled forward onto her knees and looked around the nearly-destroyed cabin of the downed airplane in search of Martha Kent.

She found her quickly, lying beneath an overturned table near cockpit. A hasty examination revealed no broken bones that Lois could find, but the Senator's bloody forehead and unconscious state worried her. She tapped Mrs. Kent's cheeks lightly, hoping to rouse her. When that failed, she shook her shoulders gently, mindful of any injuries that might have gone unnoticed, and called her name over the crying of the wind. All attempts to wake the redhead failed.

Lois let out a gusty sigh of frustration. Adrenaline was shooting through her, making her feel shaky and surreal, but Lois told herself firmly that this was not a great time to panic. Through a combination of her own inherent level-headed nature and the General's lifelong training, the panic switch had been all but bred out of Lois Lane! This wasn't the first time she had found herself in an apparently dire situation, and she damn well intended to live long enough to find herself in another one, and she'd make sure Mrs. Kent did, too!

With another soft moan of pain, she hauled herself to her feet, feeling a wince as she put weight on an ankle she hadn't realized was twisted.

Despite the sharp pains shooting through her foot and leg, Lois hobbled stiffly across the cabin to the door to the cockpit, which had been ripped open by the craft's obviously violent impact.

As she pushed aside the ruins of the door, Lois wondered how on earth they had survived the crash. From the state the plane was in, it was obvious that it had been a hell of a wreck. Yet somehow, she had come away with injuries which, as far as she could tell, were superficial, and Mrs. Kent didn't seem to have broken anything though her continued lack of consciousness was beginning to seriously frighten her.

Lois had expected to find at best, an unconscious pilot and at worst, a corpse in the cockpit, but all that remained of the man in control of the airplane was an empty seat with the cushions slightly charred and ripped.

"Guess our Floyd Bennett wannabe jumped ship," she muttered to herself, and reached eagerly for the abandoned radio set. Flipping at the controls with the ease of a familiar user, she scanned through the radio frequencies to find the strongest possible signal. "Mayday! Mayday!" she called into the headset. "Mayday! Our plane is down. Repeat: our plane has gone down."

She was met only with crackling static. "Dammit," she hissed between gritted teeth. Either the equipment was damaged, or they were out of signal range. She would have to find a way out of this herself. If it had just been her alone in the plane, she wouldn't have been too concerned. She could handle herself. But with an unconscious, possibly severely injured Martha Kent lying in the cabin behind her, Lois was worried.

At last she turned her eyes up to glance out the broad expanse of the windshield.

_Maybe the equipment is just fine. Maybe,_ she thought in amazement, _we're just so far north the magnetic pole is interfering with the radio_.

An incredible sight met Lois's gaze. About two miles distant lay what appeared to be a titanic palace of ice, organic in design but obviously _by design_. There was no mistaking that she was seeing a planned structure. Relief melted through her. Buildings- even ones that looked like they belonged either in the Ice Age or outer space- meant people, and people meant help for Mrs. Kent.

Lois stumbled out of the cockpit back to the main cabin of the plane. For a few moments she stood there, leaning against the wall to keep her weight off the injured ankle, debating how to proceed. Should she leave Mrs. Kent here in order to reach the structure she had seen more quickly, or take her along?

It wasn't a difficult decision. She knew there was no way she could leave Mrs. Kent alone in this state. If she woke up or if her conditions, Lois knew she needed to be there with her.

Twenty minutes later, Lois set out across the tundra. She had dressed Mrs. Kent's head wound as best she could with the contents of the on-board first aid kit. Then she had emptied their two carry-on suitcases and piled as many extra layers of clothing onto the both of them as she could. She had used the larger of the two suitcases (hers, by the way; she made a mental note to tell Clark to quit mocking her for her packing tendencies next time she saw him) and the detachable handle of Mrs. Kent's laptop bag to form a crude sort of toboggan on which she laid the unconscious Mrs. Kent.

Outside the relative shelter of the interior of the plane, the frigid temperatures bit deep. Even wearing three shirts and a blazer, a long skirt over her pants, and with a decorative scarf being used as an improvisational head-covering, Lois felt the arctic air against her skin as if she were bare to the elements.

Her feet, buried deeper beneath the loose surface snow with each step, went numb after five minutes. She was grateful, because it meant the pain from her injured ankle lessened.

Her hands lost all feeling a few minutes after that, forcing her to visually confirm that she still gripped the strap she was using to tow Mrs. Kent across the snow. Her ears and her nose stung painfully, but Lois didn't dare let go to attempt to warm them, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to force her hand to curl back around the strap if she stopped now.

Lois was highly-trained for survival in virtually every environment, and she was well-aware that the bone-deep exhaustion she felt settling over her was a result of the temperature sapping her energy, but the knowledge didn't help her much.

"Come on, Lois," she whispered to herself. "You can do this."

She kept up a steady stream of self-encouragement as she trudged across the barren terrain, heaving the prone form of Mrs. Kent behind her, and doing her best to ignore the slow creep of numbness up her legs.

At last, she made it to the structure she had seen from the cockpit. Up close, it was even more impressive. The broad, multi-faceted columns captured the sunlight and cast rainbows across the surrounding snow and ice. The structure was composed not of ice, as she had initially assumed, but crystal.

Lois towed Mrs. Kent through the entryway and through a low-ceilinged passage to what seemed to be the central room. A low, pulsing crimson light filled the space, giving the whole scene an eerie, bloody cast.

"Hello?" she called loudly, and received no answer but echoes.

It was warmer inside the... building? structure? palace? Well, whatever you called it, Lois could tell that it was substantially warmer, and she began to feel sensation returning to her extremities. Despite the physical relief she was feeling, however, foreboding filled her. Something about this place felt... private. It wasn't that prickle up her spine she got when she was unwelcome in hostile territory, but she felt as if she were intruding somewhere sacred.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," she said to no one in particular. She reached out idly and touched one of the crystal columns.

Light flared from where she had laid her palm, and the already comfortable temperature abruptly warmed noticeably a few degrees more.

_"Lois Lane."_

Lois whirled around on the spot, searching for the source of the authoritative male voice that had addressed her, but found no one and wound up spinning in a ridiculous-looking circle.

"Who are you?" she called to the waiting air.

_"You have been of great service to my son, Lois Lane."_

"What are you talking about? Who _are_ you?"

A pause followed, as if the disembodied voice were considering its next words. When it spoke again, the tone was very deliberate and Lois had spent enough time being talked down to by people of authority who expected her to fall in line with whatever they happened to want to be able to tell immediately when she was being handled.

_"My name is Jor-El of the planet Krypton, and that is all you need know about me... for the time being."_

Lois narrowed her eyes. "And you expect me to just buy that?"

_"It is of no importance whether you believe who and what I am. Time is of the essence."_

She didn't quite know where to look, so Lois settled for planting her hands on her hips angrily and staring into the empty air above her. "Look, Jor-El or whatever your name is, I don't know what the hell kind of game you think you're playing, but my friend is injured. Our plane went down, and-"

_"Martha Kent will be fine. The damage to her body is consequential but not life-threatening."_

"How can you possibly know-?" Lois began, but a sudden suspicion seized her. "Did you have anything to do with our plane going down?"

_"I was not responsible."_

"Give me evidence that says otherwise," Lois retorted.

_"You were taken as pawns by a being called the Brain Inter-active Construct. When he was removed from control of your aircraft, I was powerless to prevent a crash, but the systems within this Fortress were able to guide your plane to a safer landing. I have brought you here because I need your help."_

Lois found herself utterly baffled, and wondered if perhaps she had actually fainted out there on the snow and was having some bizarre hallucination. The ground beneath her feet and the crystal beneath her palm felt too real, however, to be the result of hallucinations.

"Why would some alien freakazoid be interested in us?" she asked. "Is it because Mrs. Kent is a Senator now?"

_"No."_

After a silence of several seconds, Lois snorted. "Very forthcoming, aren't you? Why do _you_ need us, then?"

_"The Brain Inter-active Construct has used Lex Luthor as a vessel for a criminal from Krypton, General Zod, who is now spreading chaos across your world. He is possessed of great powers, far beyond those of humans, and will bring about the extinction of your race."_

Now that, Lois could believe. Not necessarily the possession-by-alien-criminal parts (though she had certainly seen enough weird and inexplicable things in the past two years that she didn't dismiss the idea outright), but Lex Luthor bringing on the apocalypse? _That_, Lois was willing to accept whole-heartedly.

"Which brings me back to the question: why us? Well... why _me_ seeing as Mrs. K is kinda out of commission right now?"

_"My son Kal-El was charged with the task of killing Lex Luthor before Zod could take possession of his body. I gave him a Kryptonian dagger which was capable of penetrating his invulnerable skin. But Kal-El's greatest weakness is his love for humanity, and, incapable of taking a human life, he chose to use the dagger on the Construct instead. In doing so, he released Zod and damaged this structure."_

"Bummer," Lois replied. "But what can I do about that?" As she spoke, her mind was whirring, trying to place that name: Kal-El. She felt certain she had heard it somewhere before.

_"__With Kal-El imprisoned in a place beyond my reach, it falls to someone else to save your species. __I have observed you, Lois Lane. You were raised as a warrior, and possess both great courage and great nobility of spirit."_

The penny dropped. "You want me to kill Lex?" she asked incredulously. "Just off him in cold blood?"

_"It is necessary."_

"Look, I'll be the first to say that Lex Luthor is more than a little psycho, but that doesn't mean I'm up for sticking a knife between his ribs."

_"Even if it means the survival of your race?"_

Lois hesitated. Those were high stakes.

"How do I even know you're telling the truth?" she questioned.

_"At this very moment, a computer virus unleashed by Zod is crippling your planet's technology. Soon he will cause a tectonic restructuring of your planet which will destroy all human life and recreate Earth in Krypton's image. You do not need to take me at my word. When you are returned to Smallville, you will be able to see the truth of this for yourself."_

It was crazy. It was completely, utterly, unbelievably crazy... but the fact was, if you had told her two years ago that men with the power to stun people just by touching them, and little girls who could shatter glass with their minds were walking among us, she would have called that completely, utterly, unbelievably crazy, too. Lois knew better than most that there was a lot more to the world than met the eye. This wasn't so much of a stretch after all that.

"What do you want me to do?"

_"The dagger I gave to Kal-El is your only chance against Zod. Retrieve it, and use it. You will find it at the Kent farm."_

"What is it doing there?"

_"That is not your concern."_

Lois crossed her arms. "The hell it isn't!"

_"Time is of the essence, Lois Lane. To save your race, you must stop Zod before he initiates the pulse which will destroy your world."_

"That's great, but how am I supposed to get there? In case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly in downtown Metropolis."

_"This structure will transport you."_

Lois wisely chose to bite down the sarcastic comment that immediately sprang to mind.

For several seconds, the voice of Jor-El was silent, and Lois got the distinct impression that he was debating with himself about something. She waited impatiently, wondering if he'd just spit it out already.

_"You have influence with my son, Lois Lane. In the unlikely event that he is able to free himself and return to Earth, protect him from himself."_

"I don't even _know_ your son."

She got the distinct impression that if Jor-El had a body, he would have given the same kind of dismissive shrug the General often gave when he had decided she was wrong, but was tired of arguing with her.

_"As you say."_

Lois considered interrogating him further, but before she could make up her mind exactly how to phrase the questions she had, Jor-El spoke again.

_"You will be returned to your proper place now. Farewell, Lois Lane."_

The crystal palace dissolved in a flare of light.


	2. 1: Anarchy & Authenticity

**A/N-** To those of you who have reviewed: thank you all most generously. I love reading your comments on this story. To those of you who have added this to your favorites or alerts, again, thank you. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy the planning and execution of it.

I'd like to make a few notes on form here. This story will be principally from Lois's point of view, because it's mostly things she is involved with that will change. However, if there are any other scenes that change as the result of Lois's actions, they will be included. Basically what I'm saying is, if you don't see it happening, it didn't change one bit. I don't see the need to transcribe scenes that remain the same, because all that does is take up space, and you _know_ what happened in canon, right?

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><p>1. Anarchy &amp; Authenticity<p>

"_If we don't make it alive,_  
><em>Well, it's a hell of a good day to die.<em>  
><em>All our light that shines strong<em>  
><em>Only lasts for so long<em>  
><em>And it's ashes to ashes again<em>."_  
><em>-The Offspring

* * *

><p>The impact sent Lois reeling. Her hands, outstretched to break her stumbling fall, caught against a surface of flat stone and she steadied. For moments, she couldn't for the life of her place where she was. Then she began to make sense of her surroundings. She had been sent to the Kawatche Caves. Mrs. Kent, still unconscious but with the broad gash on her forehead visibly improved, lay on the stone table in the center of the broad space.<p>

Lois straightened up and, to her amazement, found that her sprained ankle did not so much as twinge when she put weight on it. She stripped off her headscarf and the layers of extra clothing she had piled on in the Arctic, gathering her bearings further as she did so.

As gently as she could, she slid Mrs. Kent from her resting place and began dragging her bodily through the caves, wondering desperately if she'd be able to find her way back to the surface.

It took her a solid fifteen minutes to find the entrance to the caves, and even once she had pulled Mrs. Kent's dead weight up the steep slope below said entrance, it hit her very hard that they were still in the middle of nowhere, easily half a mile or more from the highway, and then it was still at least twenty miles farther from even so great a metropolitan area as downtown Smallville. Her surreal conversation with a disembodied voice in the Arctic and subsequent beam-me-up-Scotty was weighing on her mind, but to be honest, Lois wasn't even sure how she was going to get Mrs. Kent the medical help she obviously needed, let alone find a way to save the human race.

And so Lois did what she always did when the going got tough: whatever she could. Once she'd gotten Mrs. Kent to the hospital, she would worry about verifying Jor-El's story. For now, the most pressing matter had to come first. Resolutely, she continued to trudge down the dirt track that led to the entrance of the caves, holding Mrs. Kent tightly around the waist.

Just over ten minutes brought her to the highway, and to Lois's relief, she could see a green pickup heading her way just a short distance down the road. She lowered Mrs. Kent to the ground and straightened up, waving her arms over her head in order to signal the driver. As the truck neared, however, she could see that it had blown past the speed limit a few sound barriers ago and wasn't exactly doing the best job of staying within the painted lines. The driver's eyes were wild and panicky as he blew right past the two women on the side of the road, apparently without seeing them.

"What's got into him?" Lois remarked edgily.

Resigned, she gathered up Mrs. Kent in her exhausted arms once more, and began the arduous trek down the highway in the direction of Smallville.

She had only gotten another quarter mile when the sound of tires on the shoulder gravel caught her attention. A black limousine which once had been sleek but which was now sporting two broken windows and a multitude of deep scratches in the body had pulled up just behind them. When Lois spotted the "LUTHR" license plate, she had half expected Lex (or, if Mr. Freeze was to be believed, some General Zod guy) to step out.

Instead, Lionel Luthor himself, with a deep cut across his right cheek just beneath his eyes, emerged from the battered car.

"Miss Lane!" he exclaimed, with a look of panic on his face that was the most genuine expression Lois had ever seen him wear. "What happened? How did you get here? What's wrong with Martha?"

"Long story. Our plane went down way up north and... well, it's a long story."

"Is it, indeed?"

Lois wasn't any keener on Lionel than she was his son, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "We need to get her to a hospital," she said, indicating the redhead in her arms.

Lionel nodded in decisive agreement and to Lois's amazement, he himself reached down and helped her shoulder Mrs. Kent's weight. Together they carried her to the limo and laid her gently across the bench seat before climbing in themselves.

The moment the car was moving again, Lois could see that Lionel was prepared to resume questioning her, but she beat him to the punch. "So, I know how Mrs. K and I got all busted up, but you and your car here aren't in such great shape yourselves. And last time I checked, you hadn't been in any air wrecks lately," she prodded.

Lionel answered quickly, "Widespread riots have erupted across the country, Miss Lane. I, unfortunately, was caught up in the crossfire in Metropolis." His tone was the appropriate mixture of fear and matter-of-factness for the situation, but in his eyes Lois could see him measuring her, trying to decide just what to say, how to handle her.

"Why?" she asked. "What the hell could possibly have happened in the last twelve hours to cause something like that?"

"A- a computer virus is spreading rapidly across the world, which has crippled every computer system in the United States. Power grids have gone down, computers have stopped functioning, elevators are dropping to the basement... it's madness and chaos, and-"

"And people tend to revert to anarchy when they think the world is ending," Lois finished for him.

Lionel gave her a wry look. "Precisely."

His attention diverted back to Mrs. Kent, and Lois could see the obvious worry in his eyes, but she was preoccupied with her own thoughts. A computer virus that wreaked havoc with Earth's technology... that was exactly what Jor-El had warned her about. And while Lois was fairly skeptical by nature, she also wasn't a big believer in coincidence. Even if everything that had happened since she had passed out from lack of oxygen in the airplane was some kind of dream or hallucination, it was too improbable that she would just happen to dream up some kind of killer computer virus just as a similar virus was spreading mass chaos across the continent.

And if the virus was real, there was a pretty decent probability that the whole apocalyptic end-of-the-human-race thing was, too. Or at least, the probability was high enough that Lois wasn't willing to risk it. As far as she was aware, she and the Kal-El guy were the only two who had any clue what was going on or how to stop it, and since he was AWOL...

Lois recognized the stretch of highway they were driving along, and abruptly cried out, "Let me off at the Kent farm!"

"What for, Miss Lane?" Lionel asked, looking askance at her.

"There's something I have to do," she said, not even caring that she sounded desperate at that moment. Suddenly it didn't even matter. Even if she was wrong or crazy, she couldn't take the chance. "Please, it's important."

Lionel signalled to the driver, who pulled over to a stop just at the gate. He gave her a slow look and Lois felt as if she were being x-rayed, as if Lionel Luthor knew exactly what was going through her mind. Apparently having reached a conclusion, he nodded solemnly.

"Do what you have to do, Miss Lane," he said meaningfully, and Lois wondered just how much he knew that he wasn't telling.

"Take care of her," she implored, taking just a moment to brush a strand of scarlet hair away from Mrs. Kent's face, before she had thrown herself from the car and was sprinting down the Kents' driveway. The engine of the limousine faded into the distance behind her, and it was a weight off her mind to know that, whatever reservations she had regarding Lionel's moral character, he did seem to genuinely care about Mrs. Kent and would take care of her to the best of his ability (which at this point was a lot better than Lois's).

It was a surreal feeling, having the fate of an entire species resting on your shoulders. Lois's head swam and her stomach felt hollow. Again she felt a surge of blind panic rising up in her just as it had in the frozen tundra, and again she fought it down valiantly. Just a year ago she had embarrassed herself by losing her cool at the news of an impending meteor shower; she wasn't going to mortify herself by melting down a second time. Lois prided herself on her ability to handle herself even in pretty desperate situations and not break a sweat (or at least, not let anyone _know_ she had), and this time around she was going to live up to that image of herself she had created. She had a job to do.

Although she had no clue what was happening, she had been given some pretty explicit instructions. Ordinarily, Lois was the first to question orders, which was more than just ironic in a general's daughter, but it wasn't just some faceless alien intelligence in the arctic that was telling her she had to do this. Her gut was also sending a clear instruction to heed Jor-El's warning and instruction, and Lois Lane wasn't the type to ignore gut instinct.

The Kent farm was so peaceful it was hard to believe that chaos reigned in the world outside, but Lois knew better. She pounded up the steps onto the front porch and into the entryway. "Clark, we've got a serious problem on our hands!" she called.

There was no response.

"Hey, Smallville!" she yelled. "This isn't a great time for a game of Marco Polo, we've got a planet to save!"

Silence.

Lois felt a twinge of worry in her gut. Much though it pained her to admit it most of the time, somehow in the past two years Clark Kent had become one of her closest friends. He was a bit of a flake sometimes, but he could also be relied on to be the best backup a girl could ask for when the going legitimately got tough. She wouldn't say so out loud even under pain of death, but aside from Chloe there was no one she would prefer to have her back if she was going to go up against some kind of super-powered alien menace.

"Clark, where are you?" she called out again as she pounded through the house, searching for some sign of life. She found nothing. All the rooms in the homey little farmhouse were deserted.

At a loss, Lois returned to the living room and flipped on the television, hoping to get some insight into what was going on outside the cozy haven of the Kent farm. Rather than the news reports or emergency broadcasts she had been expecting, however, she was met with strings of foreign characters scrolling lazily across the screen, the same pattern repeated over and over. Momentarily baffled, Lois realized quickly enough what she was seeing. Clearly this über-virus was affecting more than computers.

_Well, no wonder the country's going mad,_ Lois thought sarcastically, _with the televisions on the fritz._

Alright, this was obviously past the point where she could delay any longer. She had satisfied her skepticism, and it was plain that the Jor-El guy had been telling the truth more or less. She was going to have to track down Lex Luthor, and do it quickly, with or without help from Clark Kent.

"If I were some all-powerful extraterrestrial dagger, where would I be hiding?" she asked aloud of no one.

Immediately, Lois wanted to smack herself over the head for even asking. If there was anything out of the ordinary on this farm, it was going to be in the barn. That was where all the weird stuff went down around here. She immediately hightailed it out through the kitchen, flat-out sprinting across the gravel drive and into the warm, comforting atmosphere of the barn.

She set about searching, starting up in the loft. That was the most likely place for something untoward to be stashed, and Lois began riffling through the drawers of Clark's desk. She felt a tad bit uncomfortable going through her friend's things, especially given how touchy he could be on the subject of violation of privacy, but this was too important to worry about hurting Smallville's feelings. She'd make sure he was still around to have his feelings hurt in the first place, then deal with the fallout once this was over with.

The desk proved to be a no-go, and Lois turned her attention to the bookshelf. No alien daggers presented themselves for her immediate inspection, however, and Lois's natural impatience began to get the best of her.

"What is Smallville doing with some powerful alien artifact, anyway?" she mumbled.

Giving the loft up for a lost cause, she leaned against the railing, looking down to the floor. Lois held an unlikely hope that somehow the object of her search would just spring out of nowhere. She felt as if her heart had become a clock, and every beat was another tick of the secondhand that marked humanity's countdown.

A glint of light from below caught her eye. A slight shift in her position had revealed something shiny reflecting the lowering sunlight.

Lois tore down the steps and all but launched herself from the lower landing in her haste to reach the glittering object she had spotted. She knelt on the floor and with a trembling hand, brushed the hay from atop the dagger. Almost reverently, Lois lifted her prize in both hands.

The dagger was about the length of her forehand, made of some sort of metal the color of steel but dulled and without any metallic sheen. The hilt was formed of iridescent crystal and the length of the blade was elaborately carved with symbols she didn't recognize. There was no doubt that this was the weapon she had been charged to find... and use.

Lois rocked back on her heels, feeling as if all the wind had been knocked out of her. Could she do this? Could she really, honestly, take the life of Lex Luthor? She didn't like the guy in the slightest, and if Jor-El was to be believed, he was possessed by a psychotic criminal hell-bent on destroying her entire species. Despite all of that, though, Lois Lane was never meant to be a murderer. She had been raised in the military tradition, had been taught about honor and duty parallel to the alphabet, and had lived with constant reminders that sometimes, for good ends to be achieved, bad things had to be done. But deep down, she'd always hoped she was better than that. Killing Lex would save the world, but she wasn't sure she could live with his blood on her conscience. Asshole or not, he was still a _person_, even if he wasn't exactly himself right now...

"Lois."

Before she even looked up, she knew what Lana's expression would be. Cool determination and colder fury would be mixed on that darkly angelic face. She could tell, because the voice that was ordinarily whisper-soft and deceptively sweet was actually raised for once. It didn't happen often, Lana Lang speaking up. Lois glanced up and yes, there was that angry resolution in her eyes. For a decidedly inappropriate split-second, Lois felt a stab of jealousy. Even with the world about to go up in smoke, even with one hand wrapped tight in a bloody rag, Lana still managed to look eerily exquisite. Then the brief bout of insanity passed and Lois got down, as she usually did, to the business at hand.

"What are you doing here, Lana?"

"Where's Clark?" Lana asked.

Lois shrugged. "I don't know. He was gone when I got here."

"I heard him talking to Chloe about killing Lex. I didn't understand what was happening."

"Tell me what's happening."

"It's Lex. He's changed. He... that ship, they gave him these powers, and now he's... he's not Lex anymore."

So it was true. Everything Jor-El had told her was true. Oh God, she'd really have to do this.

She took a breath, and focused on this moment right here, right now, talking to Lana. Anything else and she'd surely lose her nerve. She dredged up as much normalcy as she could and asked, "_Clark_ knew about this? How?"

"I don't know. I need to talk to him. He... he's the only one who can help me." She looked around, and beneath that Charlie's Angels facade she had going on right now, Lois thought she caught a glimpse of a little girl who felt way out of her depth. She wondered if that was what kept drawing them back to each other despite the hell they put each other through. Lana needed a hero and Clark needed someone to save. Well, Clark was MIA. It looked like it was up to her to be the hero now.

"Lana, where's Lex? We have to find him."

"It's too late. The things he can do now... I don't think there's anyone on Earth who can stop him," Lana said, and if it had been literally any other day, Lois would have rolled her eyes at the dramatics. But somehow things seemed different when the world might literally come crashing down any minute now.

"There might be," Lois said firmly, holding up the dagger for Lana's inspection. "I was told we could kill him with this."

Lana scoffed disdainfully. "You would never get close enough to even _use_ that."

"Then we're going to need a distraction," Lois said pragmatically. "Anything useful come to mind?"

Lana hesitated. "I have an idea..."

* * *

><p>Lex Luthor- or at least, the creature inhabiting his body- strode through the doors of the study, placing the bulletproof case he had acquired from the Pentagon on the glass-topped desk that occupied the central position in the room. As he flipped the latches, a dangerous feminine voice enquired, "That's all it takes to end the world?"<p>

"And begin a new one," he responded without hesitation. He turned and looked at the exotic beauty standing poised in the doorway. "You freed yourself, but didn't run," he commented idly. "Why?"

"I realized there was nothing to run to," Lana said in that same low, dangerous voice. "Sometimes, in order to survive you have to give up the things that you care about and just give in to your fate."

From her hiding place on the stairs, Lois couldn't see Lana's face. Something deep inside, however, whispered that Lana wasn't that good of an actress. She might be putting this on for Zod's benefit, but some part of Lana clearly believed it was the truth, whether she acknowledged it or not.

Zod was speaking again. "You would give me an heir? Willingly?"

"The first of many," Lana said.

A smirk crossed Zod's features and he traced two fingers down the side of Lana's face, her neck, brushed across her collarbone and swept aside her curtain of ebony hair. "Very well," he replied with an arch look. With no further hesitation, he pressed a violent kiss to Lana's lips.

Lois watched in growing horror as Lana passionately kissed him in return. _I guess it's easy enough if you just think about the body_, she decided, though from her perspective, kissing Lex Luthor wasn't exactly a treat either. The pair staggered backward and collapsed on the leather sofa before the fire, Lana straddling Zod's lap and responding lustfully to his embraces. Disgusted, Lois wanted to look away, but she knew she couldn't for fear of missing what might be a very narrow window of opportunity.

She didn't dare launch her assault while Lex, or Zod, or whoever he was, was still facing her, and so was forced to watch as the disturbing passion play carried on before her.

"Perhaps I have underestimated the females of your species," Zod crooned in Lana's ear.

"Or maybe you just underestimated me," she whispered in response.

Zod pushed her back, flipping the pair of them until they were horizontal and at last, at _last_, his back was to Lois. It might be the best opportunity she would have. She stole as quickly as she could down the stairs, care to remain on the outsides of the treads in order to keep them from squeaking. Stealing across the floor she raised the dagger, meeting Lana's teary eyes over Zod's shoulder, and brought her arm slashing down in a killing blow.

Before the knife could reach its target, however, Lois's wrist had been caught in a grip so tight, it was a miracle she didn't scream aloud. Her heart pounded and she met Zod's gaze with every ounce of defiance and Lois Lane fighting spirit she had left in her.

"You shouldn't play with things you don't understand," he said calmly, and easily hurled her across the room, stunning her when she slammed into wood and marble. Stars burst before her eyes and she fought to retrieve the breath that had been knocked from her lungs.

Zod rose to his feet easily, grasped the knife in his two hands, and sundered the blade from the hilt and tossed both carelessly aside. He turned to where Lana still lay prostrate on the couch where he had left her, and yanked her to her feet.

"Did the pair of you really think you could make a difference?" Zod asked. With that same deadly calm, he lifted Lana by the throat with one hand and proceeded to choke her viciously. "Nothing can change the fate of your world."

Still holding Lana tightly by the neck, unaffected by her struggles and the little cries she made as her air supply was slowly cut off, he walked to the briefcase he had brought into the room with him. Retrieving a little black disk of unusual shape from the pocket of his coat, he placed it one-handed on the console of the computer within the case, and set it to spinning. A deep shaking like a powerful earthquake ravaged the ground beneath Zod's feet and brought pieces of the room's elaborate moulding and stonework crashing to the floor, and the light outside the window seemed to change. A loud rumbling filled the air and it began to truly seem like the end of the world.

Goal completed, Zod returned his attention to the kicking girl in his hand.

He slammed Lana against the wall, bringing forth a strangled gasp. "You could have been at my side as Krypton was reborn," he said in a chastising tone. "Now you'll die with all the rest." Lana's eyes rolled up in her head and she choked out the last of her air

But Lois had not been idle. As the bright spots in front of her eyes faded and feeling returned to her stunned limbs, she had spied the blade of the broken dagger lying not five feet from where she lay. She pulled herself across the floor and laid her hand on it, feeling the sharp edges slice through the surface of her skin like butter, but she didn't care. Hauling herself onto unsteady limbs, she pushed herself across the floor despite the pain in her body, and at the moment that Lana lost consciousness she was just close enough to reach up and plunge the dagger into Zod's body.

Dizziness and the blood that was dripping into her eye had caused her to misjudge her aim, however, and she only succeeded in forcing the alien blade deep into his shoulder. It was enough to make him drop Lana and cry out in pain, but Lois knew immediately that her miscalculation would prove a fatal error. In the breathless second between when Zod's hand went limp and Lana fell to the ground, she accepted what was coming and almost embraced it. Better this than a few minutes more of pain and fear.

Zod whipped around to face her, wrenching the dagger free with his good arm as he did so, and glared at her with absolute venom in his emerald eyes. "You are far too persistent for your own good," he hissed at her. The bloodstained blade fell to the ground behind him and with a powerful backhand to the face, Zod sent her hurtling across the length of the room. She felt herself crash hard into something warm and solid like steel, before being lowered gently to the floor, but her ears were ringing and her vision was obscured with flickering spots of black, so it didn't mean much.

From very far away, she heard Zod's voice say, "Kal-El!" in a shocked tone.

At the sound of the familiar name, Lois forced her eyes to remain open, desperately blinking in an attempt to clear her vision. Through the darkness threatening to obscure her vision she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired figure... a flash of red... and then all thought dissolved into blackness.

* * *

><p>It was, Lois was told, several hours later when she finally regained consciousness. The doctor who examined her following her return to the land of the living informed her that she had deep muscle bruising over most of her body, several torn ligaments, and a concussion. She was put through a battery of tests, but it didn't take nearly as long as one might have expected, because the hospital was swamped with hundreds of patients after the continent-wide technological disaster that had sparked riots and the mysterious earthquake that had rocked most of the western hemisphere for several minutes.<p>

Lois managed to pry details out of the attending nurse, and while the harried woman didn't know much, having been busy treating patients for hours, what she did know was enough for Lois to piece together that Zod had been stopped and the human race was back to being in danger only from their own monumental stupidity. Once she knew that much, she was able to breathe easier. Well, as much easier as she could with a severely bruised ribcage, anyway.

Lois was left with a lot of time to think as the world went on outside her door. She thought of the last time she'd spent a significant amount of time in this hospital, a year earlier after the meteor shower. Space Invader Barbie and Ken had been asking after someone named Kal-El. And pieces started to come together.

It was growing dark outside when the door of her room opened and Clark Kent, of all people, poked his head inside.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

She shot him an attempt at a smirk. "Bad enough to know I'm still alive."

He crossed to her bedside, sinking wearily into a chair. "I just came from my mom's room. She told me what you did for her," he said. The look on his face was pensive, but when he looked at her, a hint of his usual warmth crept into his eyes. "Thank you. You probably saved her life."

Lois shook her head dismissively. "It's what anyone would have done," she pointed out.

Clark only smiled in response, but it was obvious from the way the look didn't really reach his eyes that he wanted to say something else.

"Whatever it is, spit it out, Smallville," she prompted.

He sighed. "I talked to Lana. She said the plan to attack Zod the way you did was all your idea."

"Yeah. And?"

"What on Earth possessed you to go after him? You could have been killed!" he exclaimed.

"Better to lose my life knowing I did everything I could than to hide out for the rest of my days living with the knowledge that maybe I could have protected everyone but was too much of a coward to try!" she said hotly, responding instinctively to his tone. Even though realistically Lois knew that this time around she actually _had_ been significantly outclassed, deep down a part of her was still that little girl insisting that she could do anything just as well as a boy.

It seemed that her words had some kind of impact. Clark's obstinate, closed look suddenly melted, replaced with a thoughtful face and expressive eyes. "I guess you wouldn't be you if you didn't think that way," he said.

Something- maybe it was that warmth in his eyes, or the quiet of the room, or maybe all the pain meds in her blood stream- made her want to confide.

"If you want to know the truth, it wasn't totally my idea," she told him quietly. "I know it sounds crazy, but... I was told how to stop Zod by an alien."

Clark's gaze snapped to hers and he leaned forward intently. "What are you talking about?"

"When our plane went down up in the Arctic, we crashed near this... palace of ice." Clark's eyes sparked up at that, but Lois didn't really take notice, too busy remembering her absolutely insane day. She continued reverently, "Clark, you should have seen it. It was beautiful, like something out of a dream." She smiled thoughtfully. "This voice spoke to me. He said he was some planet called Krypton and he explained how to stop Zod."

"Yeah?" Clark asked on a dubious chuckle. "What else did the voice say?"

"Don't do that," Lois snapped. "Don't try to make me think I'm crazy. It was _real_!" Even she was surprised by the forcefulness in her own voice.

"I believe you," Clark said reassuringly. "So, uh... seriously, what else did he tell you?"

Lois shrugged and immediately regretted the movement. "I don't know... he was just babbling about somebody named Kal-El. His son, I think? Anyway, he kept going on about how I had pull with this guy, and something about saving him from himself."

Clark was staring at her with an expression she couldn't understand. Hesitantly- strangely so- he asked, "What do you think that means?"

"I think... I think that I'm going to try to track down Kal-El, whoever he is, once I get out of here."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Lois raised an eyebrow at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, following this mystery voice's orders is what landed you in the hospital in the first place. Getting in deeper seems dangerous-"

"Smallville," Lois interrupted, "Do you know me at all?"

"I do, which is why I'm worried. You're like a pitbull on a pant leg. Once you start something, you can never let it go. Look at what literally _just_ happened!" he exclaimed.

"Careful, Smallville, or I'll start thinking you care about me," she teased, attempting unsuccessfully to lighten his intense mood. When his stubborn expression didn't change, and he didn't reply to her bait, she sighed. She hated Brooding Clark.

"I just don't want you to get in trouble trying to chase down some mysterious alien who might not even exist."

"No, Kal-El's real," Lois insisted. "Right before I passed out, I heard Zod say the name. I'm sure of it."

"You know, you were hurt pretty badly, isn't it possible you were hallucinating?"

Lois shrugged. "It's possible, I guess, but I don't think so."

Clark sighed. She wasn't sure whether it was from exasperation or resignation. The two seemed to go hand-in-hand when the pair of them disagreed. "Just... promise you'll be careful, alright?"

"Aren't I always?" she said cheekily. "I can take care of myself, you know."

He rolled his eyes, but a reluctant smile crept across his face. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed her hand. "I know you can."

Lois stared at her hand, clasped tightly in his much larger one, then glanced up to meet his look. She wasn't sure which surprised her more- the fact that Clark Kent was holding her hand, or the fact that she didn't mind it at all. As their eyes met, she saw there a warmth and a strange kind of contentment, and Lois realized all at once that they had reached that place again. Every so often they hit one of those tipping points in their relationships. She wasn't sure what would happen if they ever chose to let the tip turn into a fall, but she knew that they had bypassed every one of them so far. Now wasn't the time to see what gravity had in store for them.

He suddenly seemed to realize what they were doing, and the look in his eyes changed to embarrassment. He released her hand and looked away with a soft, awkward sigh.

* * *

><p>Clark sat by his mother's bedside through the night. The doctor had told him that Martha would likely be well enough to go home in the morning, but Clark still felt compelled to watch over her.<p>

Around five a.m., she woke. "Hey," she mumbled drowsily.

"Hi Mom," he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been through a plane crash," she joked. "How are Lois and Chloe?"

"Fine," Clark said reluctantly. "They're both going to be fine."

Martha smiled. "That's good," she said. After a pause, she said, "Lionel was here last night. He said that his connection to Jor-El is gone."

"Along with any influence he had over him," Clark mused darkly.

"Maybe we're better off without Jor-El in our lives," Martha said.

"He sent Lois on a suicide mission to stop Zod," he said angrily. "How could he ask her to do that? She's..."

"Only human?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Clark snorted. "There's nothing "only" about Lois. But yes, she is human. Her bones break, she bleeds." He looked down, trying to hide the anger he knew would be plain in his eyes.

"But she's strong," Martha responded firmly. "You were missing, Clark. Jor-El couldn't bring you back, no one else knew where you were, and there was no guarantee you would ever be able to come home. We couldn't just sit back and accept the end of the world, could we? I think if anyone in the world were capable of stopping Zod without powers, it would have been Lois. She's strong and brave and she keeps her head in a crisis."

Clark wanted to argue with her, but the fact was that Martha was right. He sat back tiredly in his chair. "The day Dad died, Mom, I've told you what I did that day. But I never said... Mom, it was almost Lois. If I had been a second or two slower, she would have been the one Jor-El took in Lana's place instead of Dad. Ever since then, I... I just want to keep her away from my secret. But it seems like what I want doesn't matter anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Thanks to her conversation with Jor-El, Lois is hell-bent on tracking down Kal-El as soon as she gets out of the hospital."

Martha's eyes widened. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Clark confessed. "I guess I just have to wait and see and be very careful around her. I don't understand why Jor-El would tell her so much."

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I took Raya's crystal to the Fortress for safekeeping," Clark informed her. He thought back to the night before. After his unexpectedly enlightening conversation with Lois, he had decided it was time to get a few things straight with Jor-El, but he had been confronted with silence and darkened crystals. "I tried to talk to Jor-El... he wouldn't answer. The Fortress is dead."

His heart felt heavy as he turned away from his mother's too-wise, pitying gaze. "Everything's changing," he said in a low voice. "Dad's gone. I can't talk to Lex. Lana's... different. I don't know where to go from here."

"Neither did I at your age," Martha told him softly. "Just follow your heart and you'll always do the right thing."

"Maybe some Kryptonians believed the same thing," Clark said. "Jor-El sarificed himself trying to save Krypton. Raya died saving me."

"Every world needs its heroes, Clark. They inspire us to be better than we are, and they protect us from the darkness that's just around the corner."


	3. 2: Puzzle Pieces

**A/N-** Hello all! Sorry for the wait, hope you all weren't too put out! Part of it was that I was dreading writing the Lois-Lana conversation in this chapter. I have kind of a weird love/hate relationship with Lana. As in, I actually quite like the girl, both her sweet, artsy, girl-next-door side and her sociopathic homicidal stalker side, but I hate her relationship with Clark so much (we're talking "a thousand burning suns" caliber, here) that that hatred tends to spill over onto the girl herself rather than reserving itself for the pairing. And since I just watched the AoS (for a good reason, I promise), I'm in that "I want to light Lana on fire" phase again, which is not conducive to writing her the way I hope to portray her in this fic.

* * *

><p>2. Puzzle Pieces<p>

"_All my life I've been searching for something,_  
><em>Something never comes never leads to nothing,<em>  
><em>Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close,<em>  
><em>Closer to the prize at the end of the rope<em>."_  
><em>-Foo Fighters

* * *

><p>The recovery period was slower than Lois would have liked, especially once the week of doctor-ordered bed rest was followed up by several more during which she was essentially confined to the Talon apartment because walking was still excruciating between her cracked ribs and the partially severed tendon in her left leg. Zod had done a serious number on her when he hurled her across the room. Twice. However, being housebound gave her a chance to think long and hard about that question that always follows a violent reorientation of worldview: what now?<p>

Lois's decision to track down the mysterious Kal-El remained firm, though both Clark and Chloe did their best to persuade her it was foolishness. Though her determination to find him did not change, in her heart Lois was quite at a loss to explain why she felt so obsessed, and what she intended to do when she found him. If anyone had flat-out asked her, she would have been completely strapped for answers.

All she knew for sure was that it was something she had to do.

For the first two weeks of her forced seclusion, Lois was too doped up on pain meds to think too much about commencing her search. It was honestly all she could do to ignore the pretty lights and try to focus on the television instead. But by the start of her third week out of the hospital, her injuries had healed enough that she stopped taking the medication. She had no intention of becoming dependent on painkillers, and she had seen firsthand on more than one occasion how prescription drugs could be as easy to get hooked on as cigarettes. With her body aching less and the fog cleared from her mind, her resolve returned with vigor and she began pondering how to begin her search.

In the end, she came up with only one lead: Lana.

A year previously, when Barbie the Barbarian and her Space-Age Ken had crashed the Smallville Medical Center in the wake of the meteor shower in search of someone named Kal-El, it had been Lana who had appeared in the midst of the chaos and led them away never to be seen again.

_Funny how she always turns up with a half-baked Band-Aid solution in the eleventh hour,_ Lois thought to herself.

But if anyone would understand what she was doing without questioning her sanity, it would be Lana.

Lois had made it a point to stay out of the path of the crashing disaster that had been Clark and Lana's latest attempt at romantic bliss. The pair of them bothered her. It was obvious (to her, at least) that they were bad for each other, but it wasn't her place to get involved, so for once she had tried to actually keep her mouth shut (with varying degrees of success). However, she had served as Chloe's emotional pressure valve enough to be aware that Lana's obsessive investigations into the first meteor shower had been a major source of contention this time around. Though she and the little brunette weren't exactly what you'd call close, Lois had a suspicion that in Lana she might not only find a potential confidante, but also a lead.

She still remembered the words that Lana had spoken that day in the hospital: _I know where Kal-El is._

She wanted nothing more than to tear right over to the Luthor mansion (where, rumor had it, the lovely Miss Lang was now living on a pretty permanent basis) and interrogate Lana about anything and everything she knew about Kal-El, but she restrained herself. Lois might be rash and she might have a tendency to dive in without checking the water level first, but contrary to popular belief, she wasn't stupid. She knew how extensive her injuries had been and she knew they took time to heal. She also knew how much she relied on her body being in peak physical condition as one of her greatest assets, and she didn't want to risk messing up her injuries further and possibly causing irreparable damage. And so she made use of that self-control Smallville would probably never believe she had, and refrained until she felt certain that she was physically up to it.

This was a little over three weeks after Dark Thursday. Lois was still sore, particularly around her still-tender ribcage, but it was the best she'd felt in weeks, and her leg was finally pain-free. The time to pay a visit to Lana had finally come, and none too soon.

She drove up to the mansion, passing a shiny silver Porsche with yet another of Lex's eye-roll-inducing vanity license plate going the opposite direction as she neared the house.

Upon being shown into the study, she found Lana sitting on one of the expensive leather couches by the fireplace, staring at a little business card with a deeply troubled expression. She didn't appear to realize immediately that she was no longer alone in the room, and it was plain that she was worried about something.

"Lana?" Lois prompted as delicately as she knew how.

The little brunette looked up abruptly, clearly startled by the intrusion upon her private moment. "...Lois, hi," she forced out, working hard to summon up a smile.

"Is everything okay?" Lois asked, never one to beat around the bush.

A little hiccup of a laugh bubbled out of Lana's throat. "Everything's fine," she said unconvincingly.

Lois wanted to press for the truth, but instead she elected to let Lana's personal demons, whatever they happened to be today, rest in her own hands. The events of Dark Thursday had instilled in her a newfound respect for Lana. Sometime in the two years they had known each other, Lois had forgotten that strong, gutsy girl who had rescued her from her very first meteor freak on the overturned earth of Chloe's empty grave. That excellent first impression had been obscured by two years of teenage melodrama (something Lois had frankly no patience for), but standing by Lana's side as the world had fallen down around them had been a reminder of the person hidden on the flip side of the drama queen. If something was seriously wrong, Lois was sure that Lana could contend with it, and if not, she would be smart enough to ask for help.

"Here, come have a seat," Lana said, and this time there was actual warmth in her words and face. Clearly, whatever had been weighing on her mind had been set aside. "I'm glad to see you back on your feet. You were in rough shape last time I saw you."

Lois nodded, smirking ruefully at the memory of Lana's brief visit to her hospital room. "Yeah, our little plan was kind of a repeat of the Bay of Pigs, wasn't it?"

Lana smiled one of those warm yet wistful smiles that made her look delicate and earnest and which Lois knew she would never be able to pull off herself. "I wouldn't say that. The last thing I remember is you coming at Zod with that dagger. Whatever you did after I passed out, it worked, because when I came to, Lex was himself again. You saved the world, Lois."

"Me? Hardly," Lois scoffed. "Maybe I stopped Zod from crushing your windpipe, but that's about it."

"But then-"

"Lana, something else happened that day and I think we both know it," Lois said bluntly, and she saw the younger girl's eyes widen, clearly both shocked and aware of the truth of her words. "That's actually why I'm here. I need your help."

"With what?"

"After Zod used me as his own personal supersized Frisbee, there was someone else in the room," Lois told her, choosing her words carefully. Instinct told her to tread carefully. She knew only too well that she was getting involved in something she didn't fully understand, and while she trusted Lana, she had definite reservations about Lana's new roommate. Almost two decades orbiting top flight military officials had taught her a great deal about information control. "Before I passed out, I caught a name. Zod called him Kal-El."

Lana's eyes widened. "That's-"

"-Who those two E.T.s who came down in the meteor shower last year were looking for," Lois finished for her. "_Exactly_."

"What do you think it means?" Lana asked.

Lois chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Honestly? I have no idea. But I want to find out. Now, I'm guessing this Kal-El guy, whoever he is, is from the same planet as Zod and those other whackadoos."

"Krypton," Lana said thoughtfully.

"What did you say?" Lois asked, suddenly paying very close attention to the other woman. _Krypton_... that had been the planet Jor-El had mentioned.

Lana looked up at her. "That was where Zod said he was from."

Although the picture was far from complete, enough pieces were dropping into place that Lois was sure the final image would be compelling once she put it all together. "This is why I came to you, Lana. The two people who seem to be most caught up in all the weird stuff that happens in this crazy town are you and Clark, and- surprise, surprise- he's being annoyingly unhelpful, so I thought maybe you and I could compare notes."

* * *

><p>An hour later, Lois left the Luthor mansion clutching a manilla folder. Lana had been eager to help Lois in her newfound mission, as desperate as ever for answers, and had willingly handed over copies of all her research into the meteor showers. The folder Lois carried was full to bursting with all the information Lana had compiled on both the first and second meteor showers, including details on the black ship she had found and Lex had studied, as well as some other things thrown in there that Lana thought might be of use.<p>

Lana told her everything she had observed of Zod's powers and everything she could remember him saying while possessing Lex. She also told her the story of what had really happened to her the day of the second meteor shower, including Lionel Luthor's catatonic ramblings about the meteor rocks that had ultimately led Lana to discover the Kryptonians' weakness.

"_Their home is their only poison_," Lois repeated to herself as she drove away from the sprawling grounds of the mansion. "What does that even mean?" Were Smallville's infamous meteor rocks from the planet Krypton? But how the hell would such a thing end up on Earth in the first place? Although it would definitely explain why the aliens chose _Smallville_, of all places, for first contact.

It was certainly a puzzle. But a thrill in Lois's heart as she glanced down at the stack of documents nestled securely in the passenger seat beside her told her she was going to seriously enjoy getting to the bottom of it.

* * *

><p>Her drive back to the Kent farm might have been wholly consumed by thoughts of Kal-El had an anomaly in the landscape not suitably distracted her. In the middle of an empty pasture was a free-standing barn door, obviously ripped off its hinges and vertical only by virtue of whatever force had jammed the end into the soft dirt. Save for a pair of grain silos there were no other structures for several country blocks, and certainly no red barns. As she drove the last five miles to the farm, Lois found herself pondering the mystery of the barn door.<p>

"I saw the weirdest thing driving over here," she announced upon entering the kitchen, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of Clark sitting at the counter, red-faced and leaning over a steaming bowl, inhaling deeply.

"Are you _sick_?" she asked incredulously. She had lived with the Kents on and off for two years and she didn't think she'd ever seen Clark so much as sniffle before; the idea of Smallville catching cold seemed kind of bizarre. Still, even the healthiest sometimes got sick. He was only human, after all.

"What does it look like?" he groused.

Lois smirked at his petulant attitude. "You know, for as weird as you are, sometimes you are such a _guy_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Men go around all swagger and testosterone, but one little rhinovirus and you revert to the age of four." She clapped him genially on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Smallville, I'll save you. I've got the perfect remedy: honey, and a little bit of cayenne pepper. I use it every time I'm sick. Makes you sneeze a bunch of times, but after that you're pretty much cured."

For some reason, Clark looked panicked at her suggestion. "Thanks, Lois, but I think I'll pass."

She rolled her eyes. Typical guy. He clearly felt lousy, but the minute anybody proposed a way to make him feel better, he didn't want it. "Have it your way, then," she said, in no mood to argue with him about it. She had things to do. "Where did your mom put the documents she wanted me to proof for her?"

Martha, who was just that moment entering through the front door, jumped in, "They're on the hall table, Lois."

"Thanks, Mrs. K," Lois said.

She retreated to the hallway to grab the papers in question, and as she was lifting the envelope they were contained in from its spot on the table, she paused a moment. Amid the tasteful arrangement of family photos that occupied most of its surface was one that had been taken of herself and Jonathan Kent after one of the rallies during his state senate run. It was a candid shot, most likely taken by Mrs. Kent. The pair of them were surrounded by red-and-blue streamers and balloons; Lois's head was thrown back in laughter and Mr. Kent was beaming, his hand resting paternally on her shoulder.

Lois picked up the frame and examined the picture, a smile crossing her face. She hadn't known this picture had found its way into the Kent's extensive collection of proudly-displayed family photographs.

She missed Mr. Kent fiercely, some times more than others. The General was her father, a role model she looked to for leadership and inspiration, but Mr. Kent had become a sort of surrogate dad, someone she had turned to for true guidance. Losing him had been hard, but as difficult as it had been for her, she knew it had been a thousand times worse for the rest of the Kent family. Clark in particular seemed to have lost his way without his father. She wished she knew how to help, but all she could really do was fulfill a promise she had made Mr. Kent that she would look out for him "if anything happened." She wondered if, when he had extracted that promise from her, he had already known somehow that his time was running short. It was a bitter thought, and she put down the photograph before she embarrassed herself by crying.

Hearing Mrs. Kent and Clark talking in the other room, she grabbed up the documents and returned to the kitchen, just in time to witness the unexpected entrance of Lionel Luthor. He looked grim and haggard, as if he had gone without sleep the night before. _Good_, Lois thought. She had never been able to forgive Lionel for almost blowing up Chloe.

"Lionel! Is everything alright?" Martha asked.

"It's Lex. He's gone. I think he's been abducted," Lionel pronounced in a distracted tone.

"Who do you think is behind it?" Clark asked.

Lionel shrugged, pushing the door closed behind him. "Given what he stole from the Pentagon, my initial reaction was the government, but after I spoke to my contacts in Washington I, uh... I don't think so. You have to find him, Clark."

"Clark?" Lois interjected. "Why him? Don't you have people for this kind of thing?"

Lionel looked to her, apparently just noticing her presence for the first time. "Miss Lane," he said coolly. "It's nice to see that your time spent in the political ring hasn't affected your unique relationship with tact."

Not to be deterred, Lois said, "First the Zod thing, now an abduction? Jeez, Smallville, Lex needs more looking after than _you_ do!"

"Thanks," Clark replied sarcastically.

"Seriously, Lionel," Lois continued, ignoring the eye-daggers Clark was sending her way. "No need to drag Clark into this. I'll go meet up with Chloe at the Planet. I'm sure if anybody can find Lex, it'll be her. We'll track him down. Smallville and his hero complex need a sick day. How long has Lex been missing?"

"Since late last night," Lionel said. "He paid me a visit at Luthorcorp, and I believe he may have been taken in the elevator on the way out."

Lois nodded thoughtfully. Between Chloe's hacking skills and her own knack for spotting easily overlooked details, she was sure they could crack this. They'd solved bigger mysteries before; nothing could stop a Chlo-Lo teamup once they really got rolling. "We'll find him," she affirmed.

Turning to Mrs. Kent, she added, "I'll try to have these documents proofed and ready to go by Thursday, Mrs. K."

"Thanks, Lois."

With a swish of her hair, Lois turned on her heel and exited the kitchen through the same door Lionel had entered by just minutes before.

* * *

><p>Watching as the door swung closed behind Lois's retreating form, Lionel remarked, "That girl is quite the force of nature."<p>

"That would be an understatement," Clark muttered.

Martha concealed a small smile.

"Your father held her in very high regard," Lionel said. Throwing a glance in Clark's direction, he added, "_Both_ of them."

Clark's eyebrows rose at that. "About that... you're Jor-El's emissary. Do you have any idea why he dragged _her_ into the middle of my battle with Zod, and gave her enough information to make her curious enough to start a man-hunt for Kal-El?"

Lionel rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "I think the former has more to do with proximity and fortitude than anything else, but as to why your father disclosed so much to someone so... shall we say, _uninitiated_... well, I honestly have no idea." With a twinkle in his eye that Clark didn't understand, he added, "Perhaps Jor-El knows something we don't."

Clark wondered if Lionel had always been this infuriatingly enigmatic, or if it was his erstwhile connection to Jor-El that had made him that way.

* * *

><p>If she were completely honest, a large part of Lois's reason for butting in on Lionel's insistence that Clark help find Lex had been to spare him the inevitable emotional fallout. He and Lex weren't exactly on great terms right now, and compounding matters was the fact that she was pretty sure Clark had no idea that Lex and Lana were living together now. Stumbling across that juicy tidbit while on the hunt for clues to solve the disappearance of a man he probably didn't really care to find in the first place would be a hell of a way to find out. Hence her interference.<p>

Which was why she was shocked when, an hour after her departure from the Kent farm, she entered the basement of the Daily Planet only to discover that Clark had apparently ignored her suggestion to stay home and let her deal with this, seeing as he was now sitting in Chloe's desk chair, looking sweaty and miserable.

"Smallville, what the hell?" she demanded. "I thought I told you _I'd_ handle putting Lex's picture on milk cartons!"

"Just because he and I aren't on the best of terms right now doesn't mean I'm not worried about him," Clark said.

Something about that didn't ring true. Well, not the sentiment, because that was Smallville all over, always looking for the best in people and always helpful, but she was pretty sure there was more to it than that. She hoped to God he wasn't looking for Lex in some misguided attempt to impress Lana. He needed to move on, not keep clinging to the memory of a girl _he_ had broken up with in the first place.

"Ordinarily I'm sure Chloe and I would be glad for the help, but you look terrible," Lois said. "You're in no shape for detective work."

"I can still help," Clark argued, looking annoyed.

"How did you get here, anyway?" Lois asked. "I left before you, and broke every speed restriction between here and Smallville to cut down on the drive time, but you got here before me."

Clark had that panicked expression on his face again.

Clearly foreseeing yet another Lois-and-Clark Battle Royale looming on the horizon, Chloe chose this moment to speak up. "Actually, Lois, Clark and I were just gonna follow up on a few leads here in Metropolis. Why don't you go back to Smallville and talk to Lana? If Lex had any idea he could be in trouble, she might know something about it."

Lois crossed her arms. "I just got here, and you want me to turn around and drive all the way back?"

"Yes," Clark said, smirking at her irritation.

Suddenly his expression went blank, his breathing hitched, and he sneezed forcefully into his cupped hands. A few of the papers on Chloe's desk fluttered away. Lois's eyebrows ticked up in surprise. "Bless you," she said. "Hell of a sneeze you've got there, Smallville."

He sniffled pitifully, and didn't meet her eyes.

"You sure you want him as your backup on this one, Chlo?" Lois asked. "He's not exactly at the top of his game."

Chloe smiled. "Don't worry, Lois. I'm sure Clark's up to a little light legwork here in the city. My paper trail's not even anything that solid. You should find out if Lana has any more promising leads."

Lois was reluctant to go along with this plan of action, but she had to admit that Chloe's logic was sound, as usual. "Alright. But if you find anything, you call me and I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Sure thing, Lo," Chloe agreed easily.

"Don't do anything I would!" she tossed over her shoulder as she headed back toward the stairs. She hoped Chloe was aware that that also encompassed sneaking into creepy abandoned warehouses by herself, because it seemed like everyone she knew had a depressingly high tendency to do just exactly that, and she knew all too well that she was the leader of the pack most of the time.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, the mystery was solved, and Lois was annoyed.<p>

By the time she returned to Smallville, Lana was already gone, hunting down Lex on her own, leaving Lois with the distinct feeling that she might have been handled. She didn't like it when her friends did it any more than when alien intelligences in the Arctic did it. Sure, she might not be as deep in whatever big mystery Chloe and Clark were always caught up in and Lex and Lana were always trying to figure out, but she wasn't oblivious or an idiot, and she didn't like being treated as such.

But this time around, she let it go. At the end of the day, Lex was safe again, and that was all that mattered.

It transpired that he had been taken by some hired thugs whose boss was interested in finding out how he had done what he had done while possessed by Zod. That little piece of information intrigued Lois. It would have had to have been someone with a lot of money and influence to snatch Lex right from the heart of the supposedly impregnable fortress that was Luthorcorp. That caliber puppet cost some serious money, and Lois couldn't help but wonder who was pulling the strings.

However, she set it out of her mind for awhile because the next day, Chloe and a newly-healthy Smallville invited her to go swimming with them.

And who was Lois Lane to pass up the chance to see Clark Kent shirtless?

* * *

><p><strong>AN2-** This chapter was just a really difficult one to write, and I think parts of it suffered as a result, but I'll leave it up to you, the readers, to make the final call. Just know that writing some parts of this was like pulling teeth sans novocaine, using only a dull butter knife and a pair of tweezers for tools.


	4. 3: Transitive

**A/N-** Ugh. I'm sorry, guys. I know I meant to have this posted ages ago, but there were two problems. Firstly, I really, REALLY hate Wither. In an otherwise pretty excellent season, Wither was a low point. Literally ONLY worth watching for the Chimmy and also for Lana as Cleopatra (which, considering her epically manipulative, survive-at-any-costs personality, was unbelievably appropriate). So having to struggle through that was physically painful, hence the short chapter. Secondly, finals crept up on me and I got far too busy to write for about two weeks straight, and then there was moving back home for the summer and stopping a friend of mine from committing suicide... well, you could say I've been quite busy.

* * *

><p>3. Transitive<p>

"_All the random hands that I have shook,_  
><em>Well they're reaching for the door.<em>  
><em>I watch their backs as they leave single file,<em>  
><em>But you stood stubborn, cheering all the while...<em>"_  
><em>-The Verve Pipe

* * *

><p>The stack of papers piled on the island in the middle of the farmhouse kitchen might have been daunting to a lesser intellect, but Lois wasn't your average college dropout. Her GPA was indicative of the amount of effort she had put into her coursework during her brief stint at MetU, but what most people didn't know was that the psychiatrist who had tested her IQ when she was a child had walked away shaking his head in amazement. The bizarre mix of astronomy charts and constituent poll results was hardly baffling, especially once she'd finally gotten it sorted according to her... <em>unique<em> system of organization.

Lois's intention on that particular sunny Wednesday afternoon was to finish proofing the final draft of Martha's speech for next week's fundraiser in the function suite of LuthorCorp Tower, but her attention continued to wander. She wanted to devote her full focus to ensuring that her boss-cum-mother-figure's brief address would earn her the accolades she deserved for her critically important policies, while avoiding making the kind of superficial "gaffes" that tended to dominate news coverage of even the state-level politics. Unfortunately, the stacks of star charts, newspaper clippings, and graphs of meteor trajectories kept drawing her eye. No matter how determinedly she tried to force her attention back to the screen of her laptop, she invariably found herself staring into space, pondering the latest tidbits her continued research had turned up.

The knock on the kitchen door, therefore, proved a welcome break from the cycle of unproductiveness. Even more welcome was the face waiting for her on the other side of the door.

Lois wasn't a shallow woman. She was definitely in both the "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and the "don't judge a book by its cover" camps. But that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate a beautiful male form when one wandered into her orbit. And the man standing outside the Kent home, with his strong jaw, chiseled features, and thick head of blond hair, was definitely a looker.

Realizing she'd been staring, she blurted out, "Hey."

"Hi," he replied with a crooked little smile. Without further ado, he offered up a sealed envelope.

Taking it from him, Lois glanced at the watermark on the front of the envelope. "Queen Industries?" she remarked. "Must've caught a strong headwind. Mrs. Kent's been waiting on this for weeks." Gorgeous or not, she wasn't one to let a slacker of a delivery boy off the hook. But that didn't mean she couldn't soften the blow. "Thanks," she added quickly.

"You're welcome," he said, looking a little baffled. Lois found herself entranced by the charming grin that grew on his face.

When it occurred to her that she'd been staring _again_, she shook her head abruptly to clear out the haze of distinctly inappropriate thoughts that had suddenly invaded her brain, only to realize that the courier was still standing there, patiently waiting. "Oh. Crap," she mumbled, digging a few crumpled bills out of her jeans pocket. "Just so you know, with a face like that, you could do a whole lot better than playing errand boy to the rich and arrogant," she advised, handing over the little clump of ones.

A smug look crossed his face. "Thank you very much," he said, his tone distinctly amused. "What is, uh-?"

"Your tip," Lois explained, internally rolling her eyes at his obliviousness.

"It's a tip... okay..."

She couldn't figure out why on earth he should be so amused, so she settled for ending this conversation before their mutual staring got weird. "Seriously, aim higher," she said, and shut the door in his still-grinning face.

A few moments later, Mrs. Kent, who had recovered beautifully (not to mention a great deal more quickly than Lois) from her ordeals of Dark Thursday, descended the stairs on quick feet. "I thought I heard the door?" she queried.

"Oh, your pledge finally sailed in from Queen Industries," Lois explained. She gave her employer the envelope for her inspection.

"Where's the man who came with it?" Mrs. Kent asked.

"The courier? Oh, I gave him his tip and sent him on his merry little way." If she hadn't been so determined to keep her eyes on her computer screen in an effort to keep them from wandering to the far more intriguing papers across the island, she might have noticed the horror-struck expression on the Senator's face.

She peered out the window, then turned back to look at Lois with a thoroughly displeased expression on her face. "Handsome? Chiseled features with a smile that could light up a barn?" she asked pointedly.

"Mrs. Kent!" Lois exclaimed, feigning shock. "You have a crush on the courier?" _Not_, she added internally, _that it would be at all surprising..._

"You mean the billionaire CEO who stopped by to talk about his financial support of my platform?" Mrs. Kent replied. "No, Lois, I don't. I've never even met him and now I probably never will."

Lois's stomach bottomed out from a sickening combination of delayed embarrassment at her assumption, and the far more painful prospect of having let down a member of the Kent family. "That was Oliver Queen," she hissed out under her breath.

"Yes," Mrs. Kent said, "It was."

"I'm_ so_ sorry, Mrs. Kent," Lois said, internally scrambling for a way to rectify her error. "I- look, I'll fix this. I'm not quite sure how yet, but I'll figure something out."

"Lois?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kent?"

Martha gave her a frustrated attempt at a smile. "I know how distracted you've been lately. It's completely understandable. Whatever it was that happened to you on Dark Thursday... well, let's just say I sympathize with your need to find some answers. That's important to you, which makes it important to me. But the work we're doing is also important, especially the education bill we're trying to get passed, and I need every member of my staff on top form these next few weeks, including you."

Lois nodded. "Message received, Mrs. K. I'll table the E.T. stuff for a few days."

"Thank you, Lois."

* * *

><p>Lois had been expecting a lot of things when she arrived back at the apartment above the Talon, but her baby cousin entangled with a boy on the couch, both of them in varying states of undress, was not one of them.<p>

"_Oh_ my God!" she gasped.

Immediately, Chloe wrenched herself away, sending the blue-eyed boy tumbling to the floor. She flushed bright red, and he rolled over to see what interruption had prompted his unceremonious removal from the sofa. When his gaze found Lois, his eyes widened and he immediately set about trying to re-buckle his belt.

"Lois!" Chloe sputtered, now scarlet to the roots of her hair. "I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few hours yet!"

"Clearly," Lois said dryly. "I kinda caused a major disaster this morning, and I need to do some damage control before it puts a serious dent in Senator Kent's work."

"Hence the early return," Chloe said.

Lois nodded.

By this point, the third occupant of the room had successfully put his attire to rights, and climbed to his feet. "Sorry about that," he said, an embarrassed but guileless grin on his face. "You must be Chloe's cousin?" He held out his hand.

"Lois Lane," she confirmed, taking his hand with a skeptical look.

His boyish smile widened. "Jimmy Olsen," he replied. "It's nice to finally put a face to the legend. Chloe talks about you constantly."

"_Really?_" Lois asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because she's never mentioned you."

"Not ever?" he asked, a puzzled frown creeping over his features.

Lois shrugged. "Nice to meet you, Jimmy-boy, but I think maybe you should go now. I think it's time my favorite little cousin and I had a little chat about, um, house rules." Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, but Lois was already ushering him rather forcefully toward the door.

"Chloe-" he sputtered, throwing a sweetly confused look over his shoulder at the shame-faced blonde on the couch.

"I'll call you in awhile, Jimmy," she promised.

He gave her a cheery thumbs-up through the rapidly-closing door, and just had time to flash her a grin before Lois slammed it fully to.

As soon as the deadbolt was slid firmly into place, Lois rounded on her cousin. "_Jimmy_?" she asked incredulously. "Am I right in assuming that this is the infamous Jimmy Olsen of yesteryear?"

Chloe shrugged, buttoning up the top few buttons on her peach-colored blouse. "Yes," she said.

Lois sighed, and sat down beside her cousin on the sofa. "What's going on here, Chloe?"

"Look, I'm sorry you had to walk in on-"

"No, I'm not mad about that," Lois rushed to reassure her. "Although seriously, would it have killed you to hang a sock on the door?" She gave her cousin a little smirk to know that she was only teasing (mostly). "Honestly, though. How on Earth did you run into Jimmy, of all people?"

Chloe pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with one slim hand. "He's an intern at the Planet now, too. We ran into each other on Dark Thursday, and we've seen each other a few times since. Last night, we were on a stakeout mission at Make-out Point and... well... our relationship is officially rekindled."

Lois raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Are you sure that's a great idea, Coz? Because the last time I heard the name Jimmy Olsen, you were fifteen years old, crying your heart out to me on the phone because the boy you lost your virginity to never called you back."

Chloe glanced down at her lap, her expression a cross between abashed and coy. "I know. Jimmy and I do have kind of a messy history. But we've talked about that, Lois. He's grown up a lot, and I'm not the same girl I was five years ago, either. We're going to take our time with this and not rush into things the way we did before."

"Really? Because what I just walked in on didn't look like not rushing into things."

The petite blonde flushed pink again. "Jimmy's always had a way of making me lose control," she confessed. "But I promise, Lois, I can handle this. Trust me."

"I do trust you," Lois said. "And if he breaks your heart again, I'm gonna break a whole lot more than that."

Chloe grinned. "That's sweet, Lois. But I don't think there's much chance it will be necessary."

Lois wondered how Chloe meant that. Did she mean that Jimmy wouldn't break her heart because her heart was still safely tucked away in Clark Kent's back pocket, or did her little cousin foresee this new relationship actually going somewhere? Lois was a big believer in letting people live their own lives, and she trusted Chloe to know what was best for her most of the time, but past history had shown that although the younger girl was smarter than just about anyone else Lois knew, when it came to matters of the heart she could be extraordinarily stupid.

For the time being, though, Lois's first impression was telling her that Jimmy Olsen seemed like a decent sort of guy. Protective to the point of absurdity, she might be at times, but she would let Chloe make her own mistake, if mistake it was.

"So, what did you say brought you home in the middle of the day?" Chloe asked.

Lois sighed. "I accepted a package, insulted a billionaire, and potentially ruined months of Mrs. Kent's work."

"Wow."

"Yep. Now I just need to figure out how to fix it."

* * *

><p>Ordinarily, Clark's eyes might have skimmed right past the piles of paper that were splayed across the kitchen island; he had the highest respect for the country's politicians and the people who assisted them in their work, but he himself had next to no interest in participating. However, on this particular occasion, he caught sight of a collection of star charts mixed in with the lists of campaign contributors and rough drafts of an updated version of his mother's education bill.<p>

Curious, he picked up the pages, and immediately recognized them as the exact same charts Lana had created as part of her astronomy research at MetU. His heart sank.

"Lois got ahold of Lana's research?" he wondered aloud.

Emerging from the hallway, Martha said, "Yes. The two of them are working together on this investigation of hers."

Clark groaned aloud. "I thought she'd give this up eventually!"

Martha cocked an eyebrow. "Did you?"

"I guess not," Clark admitted with a sigh. "Lois is relentless. She makes _Chloe_ look like a quitter!"

"She is persistent," Martha agreed. "But she wouldn't be Lois if she weren't."

Clark smirked at that.

"I've done what I can to divert her. I asked her to scale back her investigations into what she heard in the Fortress for awhile, to give more of her focus to our work in Topeka, but knowing Lois, that won't set her back much."

The fond look drained away from Clark's face, replaced by a pensive look that had become all too common since his father's death. "What am I gonna do, Mom? When it was Lana who was digging into this, I wasn't too worried. I mean, Lana's smart, but I was never too worried she'd be able to connect the dots and trace it back to me, but Lois..." He sighed. "Lois, with Lana's research in her hands, is a scary combination. She doesn't look at things the way most people do. She has this way of just cutting right to the heart of things. If anybody could add A plus 7 and realize it equals Kal-El, it's her."

Martha couldn't help but want to laugh at the ridiculous-sounding statement juxtaposed with her son's terribly worried expression. She shook her head, restraining herself to a grin. "Clark, I don't know what to tell you. Have you considered perhaps just telling Lois the truth?"

"Mom! Are you _crazy_?" Clark yelped. "Lois gets in enough trouble as it is without the added danger of knowing who I am!"

"And you honestly think that she won't put herself right in the middle of just as much danger in the process of trying to find the truth?" Martha asked.

Clark stared at her, eyes wide. "What are you saying? You think I should tell her?"

Martha shook her head. "No, Clark, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that Lois is a loyal, courageous young woman who has a funny way of accepting people just as they are. And I'm saying that you should take a minute to seriously consider honesty as an option. Think about it logically and decide what you think will be the best course of action. Tell her, or don't tell her. You're the only one who can make that decision."

Clark bit his lip, thinking hard. "Lois did find out once," he said quietly. "Did I tell you that?"

"What?" Martha asked, shocked.

"Yeah," he said with an uncomfortable roll of his shoulders. "It was toward the end of senior year. You and Dad were out of town and... I don't know. The whole thing was actually kind of complicated, and I don't remember most of it. But to make a long story short, there was this guy who could erase people's memories. The only thing I actually remember from that whole day was suddenly coming to in this lab, just in time to stop a pair of huge transmitters from falling on Chloe... right as Lois walked in." He shook his head, staring unseeingly at the opposite wall. "I can still remember what she to me said before her memory was removed: _I guess I should stop calling you Smallville_."

"You don't want her to look at you differently if she ever learned your secret," Martha intuited.

Clark nodded. "Spending time with Lois is... nice. She treats me like just another guy. It used to drive me up the wall, but now... it's a nice feeling. As much as I love Chloe, and as grateful as I am for her support, after she learned my secret she started treating me differently. And even though most of the time they're complete opposites, sometimes Lois and Chloe can be so much alike..." He shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I guess being plain old "Smallville" has kind of grown on me. I don't want my friendship with Lois to change."

"Or she might surprise you," Martha suggested. "After all, Pete never treated you any differently after he learned the truth."

"Yeah, but having to carry my secret almost destroyed his life," Clark reminded her. "I'm starting to think I can't have it both ways."

"Sometimes it's just not possible," Martha agreed in a sympathetic tone. She laid a warm hand on her shoulder. "Well, whatever you decide, you know I'll support you."

Most of the time, talking out his problems with his mother or Chloe could help Clark come to a decision about what course of action to take. This time, however, Clark found himself left more confused than he had been before. It just figured, he supposed, that Lois Lane would defy convention and leave him twisted in mental knots trying to sort her out.

Well, he'd just have to worry about Lois later. For now, he had to focus on solving the mystery of an impaled girl in a tree and a string of men gone missing in the woods...

* * *

><p>The All-American Rejects were performing their latest pithy radio hit from a raised platform on the north side of the room. Lois grimaced. It wasn't really her taste in music. She was a hard rock, heavy metal type of girl all the way, and vaguely alternative pop-rock superstars weren't much to her taste. But somehow, she suspected that engaging Mötley Crüe to play the Dark Thursday benefit gala wouldn't have prompted quite the same turnout that Lex's musical selection had.<p>

She glanced down at her costume- more specifically the ample amount of cleavage it displayed- and frowned again.

Oliver Queen had surprised her. He was more charming, and certainly more interesting, than she had given him credit for. But just because she found herself enjoying his company didn't give him a free pass on the Maid Marian costume that bared a great deal more of her generous decolletage than was probably called for at a charity event.

"So, is this part of your "sizing me up"?" she asked, her attitude positively radiating sarcasm, as she glanced up at her escort for the evening.

"Honestly, Miss Lane, _that_ was a miscalculation."

"Well, that would be my polite comment on your choice of legwear for this evening," she fired back, referencing the bright green tights he was wearing beneath the short emerald tunic.

"You have a quick tongue," he said. "I find that very attractive."

She felt a little fluttering in the pit of her stomach, and despite all the warning bells going off in her head that potentially getting involved with a known playboy was a very bad idea, allowed a coy smirk to cross her features. "Well, keep it in your quiver, Jolly Green Bandit. So, tell me: is your fortune the do-it-yourself, steal-from-the-rich kind, or is it silver-plattered like our host's?"

"It belonged to my parents," he explained. "And I inherited it when they died."

Immediately, Lois felt the uncomfortably familiar sensation of having stuck her foot far enough into her mouth to perform a tonsillectomy with her toes. Determined to rectify her mistake, she rushed to add, "Well, I wasn't gonna give it to you, but the tights? You're totally pulling it off."

Oliver smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a word in, the oily voice of Lex Luthor interrupted: "You should see him in a tutu."

"Lex Luthor... with a girl that he doesn't have to inflate," Oliver responded in mock surprise.

Lois's eyebrows shot upward at the barely-disguised hostility arcing between the two billionaires.

Lex, to his credit, didn't rise in any overt way to the obvious bait. "Lana Lang, Oliver Queen," he made the briefest of introductions. "We went to boarding school together."

The men locked eyes, staring each other down. Sensing that Oliver was about to say something else, Lois decided to intervene. She was no diplomat, but what little time she had spent around Oliver had given her the impression that he had the same tendency to shout first and ask questions later that she did. "Hey Lana," she piped up, "What do you say we leave these boys to their pissing contest and go get some food?"

Lana giggled and nodded. "I think that's a good idea," she agreed easily, following Lois away from the two flabbergasted trust fund boys.

Once they had made it a safe distance from their respective dates, Lana asked in innocent curiosity, "So, how did _you_ end up here with the infamous Mr. Queen?"

Lois smirked. They had reached one of the little tables scattered about the room containing platters of hors d'oeuvres, and as Lois plucked a handful of shrimp balls from one of them, she said, "It's kind of a long story. It involves a courier who wasn't a courier, a fruit basket, and an extremely rare Lois Lane groveling apology."

Lana's eyebrows disappeared under her elaborate headdress and her already broad smile grew even broader. "It sounds like you've had quite an interesting time of it lately, then?"

"Something like that," Lois said with a shrug of her shoulders. "By the way... Cleopatra? Nice choice."

"Lex's personal wardrobe specialist helped me put it together," Lana explained.

Lois nodded in understanding. It seemed they'd both had their share of billionaires dressing them lately. "So how are things going with Lex?" she asked.

"Pretty well. It's... I don't know. It's a very different relationship to what I'm used to, and now that I'm living in the mansion things have been kind of strained..."

"How come?"

Lana gave her a rueful look out of the corner of her gold-lined eyes. "Lex said he felt I was carrying Clark's ghost around with me."

"Ouch."

"I know. But after talking it over with Chloe, I realized that he was right, in a way."

Lois's eyebrows raised. She knew only too well that Clark still carried a torch for Lana, but to hear that some part of Lana was still clinging to Clark was... interesting. Annoying, because as she had told Clark on multiple occasions, they both needed to move on and find healthier relationships, but interesting nevertheless.

"Letting go of Clark has been hard," Lana confided. "For so many years, he's been the only person in my life I could always rely on. No matter what else changed, no matter who else came and went from my life, he was always there. And now..." She sighed, and let out a little laugh. "I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this."

"Probably because it's rattling around in your head and you need to talk if over with someone," Lois suggested. "And unless I'm reading things wrong, you're not entirely comfortable talking about it with Chloe, because she and Clark are still so close."

Lana gave her a surprised look and nodded. "Exactly!" she exclaimed. She glanced across the room at Lex, who was now deep in conversation with a Turkish ambassador. "The thing is, I care about Lex. A lot. I think maybe I could love him. But something has been holding me back."

"Do you think maybe you're afraid to commit to Lex because fully letting go of Clark would mean that he wouldn't be your rock anymore?" Lois intuited.

Lana nodded, a pensive look on her face. "I think that's part of it," she agreed.

Lois hesitated, pondering, then decided (as she usually did) to just damn the torpedoes and say what she was thinking. "If you want my advice... you should try to find that strength you've always drawn from Clark inside yourself. You don't need him, Lana. You're stronger than that. I mean, look at what we did together on Dark Thursday. Look at what you did after the last meteor shower. When push comes to shove, you can stand on your own two feet. You don't need to lean on Clark."

Lana looked at her in wonderment. "Thank you, Lois," she said in that whisper-soft voice of hers.

"Hey, what are friends for?" Lois asked, shrugging it off.

"Still," Lana insisted.

A moment or two of silence passed, during which Lana inspected a lobster puff she had selected from the platter of hors d'oeuvres, and Lois popped another shrimp ball in her mouth. Once she had swallowed, she suddenly remembered another reason she'd had for pulling Lana aside. "Oh, by the way, I looked over some of your research from the second meteor shower. The things you've discovered are really interesting."

"Well, it's not all me," Lana said. "My astronomy professor helped with most of it. But the research from the second meteor shower isn't what's interesting. Have you looked over the individual trajectories from the first meteor shower yet?"

Lois shook her head. "I haven't quite gotten that far."

An enigmatic smile crossed Lana's face, sharpening her features with a feline grace that made her look every inch the regal Egyptian queen whom she was impersonating for the evening. "Take a look when you get the chance," she said. "Especially page 3, quadrant D-7. I think you'll find it as intriguing as I did."

Lois appraised her eager expression. "Care to give me a sneak preview?" she asked.

Lana's Cheshire Cat grin only broadened. "No, I want you to look at it with fresh eyes, and tell me if you come to the same conclusion I did. I need a second opinion to be sure I'm right, and neither Clark or Chloe would ever give me one."

She was taken aback, but she probably shouldn't have been. Lana's reasoning was sound, and her need to verify whatever truth she thought she'd stumbled across was quintessentially Lana.

"Alright," Lois agreed. "I'll give you a call once I've had a chance to look it over. Though I should warn you, after my major fumble this morning, it might be awhile before I get the chance to break away from chief-of-staff duties for awhile."

"I understand. Mrs. Kent's work is important."

Lois nodded. "And speak of the Senator," she added, spotting her boss across the room, "I should probably go introduce her to my date, seeing as that's the main reason I'm here tonight."

Lana smiled. "Go. Do your job," she said with an unintentionally regal wave of her hand.

"Empress Cleopatra," Lois addressed her with an ironic curtsey.

"Maid Marian," Lana returned, mirroring her curtsey and laughing at the little game.

* * *

><p>The clock had just struck one when Lois pushed the back door of the Talon closed and turned to lean against it, a smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach.<p>

The evening had been a rousing success. She had introduced Mrs. Kent and Oliver, just as she had planned, and the two of them had almost immediately agreed to collaborate on funding for Mrs. Kent's proposed changes to the state's education policy. From what she had glimpsed throughout the evening, Lana seemed to have released (at least for that evening) the burdens on her mind and heart and surrendered herself to Lex's expert seduction. Which, ew. But Lana cared for him so it obviously wasn't icky to her. And she, herself, had flirted shamelessly with Oliver, who had returned her attentions in kind.

It had been awhile since she had been so thoroughly enamored with a man after knowing him such a short period of time. And to be honest, the last two or three had actually turned out to be sociopaths or stranglers, so maybe her radar _was_ a little off when it came to men. But then she remembered what Mrs. Kent had said about having to go through the wrong men to recognize the right one, and it rekindled that little spark of hope she carried around that one day she would find someone who would love her the way her father had once loved (in fact, still loved) her mother.

She didn't know if Oliver Queen was that someone. It was _way_ too early to tell that kind of thing. But she liked him, and next time they went out she _definitely_ wasn't denying him a goodnight kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** As is probably becoming obvious at this point, I really want to cultivate the friendship between Lois and Lana. See, unlike a lot of Cloisers, I have no real issue with Lana. When she was with Whitney, or Jason, or Lex (or hypothetically in the future with Pete), or just standing on her own, I actually love her as a character, and I always thought that she and Lois complimented each other really well and could have been really interesting together if they'd been allowed more screen time.

...or maybe I have something much, much more devious planned regarding the newly-minted partnership between the LLs. Hm. Actually, that's probably it, isn't it? You'll just have to wait and see. *super-evil Bizarro-Ace grin of death*

But if I may suggest: receiving feedback is likely to encourage me to make your wait time shorter.


	5. 4: Tango in the Key of Jealousy

**A/N-** This short chapter falls somewhere in between Wither and Arrow. Enjoy. Oh, and for the record, I don't speak Japanese (though it's on the list, once I achieve my goals of becoming fluent in German, French, Italian, and Swedish). I had to resort to Google Translate, so if anyone actually does speak Japanese enough to recognize if I made any serious errors in the phonetic spellings... sorry?

* * *

><p>4. Tango in the Key of Jealousy<p>

"_A lot of people get confused and they bruise  
>Real easy when it comes to love.<br>They start putting on their shoes and walking out  
>And singing "boy, I think I had enough."<em>

_Just because she makes a big rumpus_  
><em>She don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy.<em>  
><em>Take a tip and do yourself a little service:<em>  
><em>Take a mountain turn it into a mole.<em>"

-The White Stripes

* * *

><p>The thing about being dragged all across the world for the vast majority of your life was that you pretty much turned into a chameleon. You didn't have a true comfort zone because you could find a way to be comfortable pretty much anywhere.<p>

Granted, where Lois Lane felt most comfortable was probably at the Kent farm, whipping Smallville's butt at Guitar Hero and helping Mrs. Kent with her latest political undertakings, but just because she tended to prefer beer and video games and monster trucks to fine wines or art galleries or swanky nightclubs didn't mean she couldn't appreciate those things as well. It was one of the things that had come out of her unconventional childhood that she was most grateful for. She could be just as much at her ease dressed to the nines at the most overpriced, high-class restaurant in Metropolis as she was in her cutoff jeans kicking around the farm. And it was a trait that was proving to come in handy now that she was officially dating Oliver Queen.

The day after the Dark Thursday charity ball, Oliver had called her. She had teased that he was going to seem overeager; he had rejoined that he was a captain of industry, and playing waiting games when it would be more effective to make a move had never been his style. He had been charming and had flirted outrageously even through the phone lines, and with her still flying high on the buzz he had left her with the previous evening, she had been utterly incapable of playing coy. He had invited her to dinner in Metropolis for the following Monday, and she had eagerly accepted (but not _too_ eagerly).

This was how she found herself seated across from the city's most eligible bachelor in a sushi restaurant renowned for having a great deal more space on the plate than there was food to fill it up.

When their waiter approached, Oliver was obviously prepared to order for her. Lois might have been offended, but the fact that the menu was exclusively in Japanese clued her in to his reasoning. He didn't strike her as misogynistic, just ready to impress her with his multilingual skill. Well, she thought to herself with a small smile, he wasn't the only one with a talented tongue.

Before Oliver could get a word in, Lois rattled off her order in nearly-flawless Japanese. "_Watashi wa sore o motte irushi, do no yōna shinshi ga go chūmon sa remasu_," she concluded, flashing a smirk in her date's direction.

Oliver's brown eyes were wide with surprise, and remained locked on hers as he placed his own order. Lois was not a vain woman, but she had to confess that she took pleasure in subverting people's expectations of her. She was a study in contradictions, and she knew it, and she liked it that way. She was where stereotypes went to die.

"So, you speak fluent Japanese," Oliver observed after the waiter departed. "You surprise me, Miss Lane."

She shrugged. "My father is a general, so I spent a lot of time overseas. He was stationed in Japan for a year when I was eight. I picked up the language pretty quickly and kept studying it after we left."

His expression was bemused as he looked at her. "Army brat, huh? Any other linguistic surprises I should know about?"

"I'm fluent in German as well, and I picked up a little bit of Russian. I took Spanish in high school, but I kept skipping class so I'm not sure it stuck."

"Impressive," he said, and she could tell he genuinely meant it. "Army kid, huh? That's a pretty wild life, from what I hear."

"It was," she agreed, her tone neutral.

"So how'd you end up as Senator Kent's chief of staff?" he asked. "Seems like a pretty random leap, following your family all across the globe only to end up working a high-ranking position in a midwestern senator's political staff by the age of 20."

Lois smiled. She might not like talking about her years as just another piece of General Lane's luggage, but her work with the Kents? _That_ she could talk about. She explained the circumstances surrounding her arrival in Smallville and how she had grown close with the Kents over the past two years. She explained Jonathan Kent's decision to run for the Kansas senate following Jack Jennings' resignation, and that led to a riotous telling of her appointment as his campaign manager and the assassination attempt on the would-be senator that had immediately followed.

"You should've seen Smallville's face," Lois said with a reminiscent smile as she concluded her story, "when he came in and found I'd already taken down that bald-headed bimbo nutjob. Poor guy never seems to know what to do when I steal his hero thunder."

"Smallville?" Oliver asked curiously.

At that point, Lois abruptly remembered that perhaps not everyone was as familiar with her little pet name for Clark as the Kents and Chloe. "Oh," she rushed to explain. "Clark Kent. I just call him Smallville sometimes as a joke, mainly because it drives him up the wall."

"Ah," he replied archly. "This is the one who's best friends with your cousin, right?"

She nodded. "That's the one. Chloe's been in love with him for years, but Clark, genius that he is, has no idea."

Oliver's eyebrows rose, but he made no comment, and the conversation soon turned to other things.

* * *

><p>On Tuesday evening, Clark headed over to the Talon apartment. For the past three days he had been stewing over what he had learned from Gloria: that he was not the only one to have escaped through the El portal in the Phantom Zone. When he tried to turn his mind to other tasks and other thoughts, he kept coming back to the implications of Gloria's presence on Earth. Even a chance encounter with Lana in the market the day before hadn't been enough to push it out of his mind.<p>

If Gloria had made it out, she might not have been the only one.

He had to know. If he had released more dangerous criminals from the Zone, they could even now be running rampant across the country, maybe even the world. Unfortunately, the only way he could be sure was if Chloe worked some of her techno-magic and was able to find any indications that other Phantom Zone criminals had made it to Earth.

Finding the door unlocked, Clark opened it without knocking. "Chloe, I need your he- Lois!"

Lois was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by several large stacks of paper. She had visibly started upon his entrance, sending a handful of papers scurrying across the floor.

"Jeez, Smallville," she said irritably. "I seem to recall telling you when I first moved in here that I didn't want any surprise visits late at night."

"Sorry, Lois. I thought Chloe would be here."

She shook her head. "Nope. Date night with Jimmy."

Clark's eyebrows went up. Two months ago, he had never heard the name Jimmy Olsen in his life, and lately Chloe had been spending an awful lot of time with the auburn-haired photographer. "So... she really likes this guy, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"How well do you know him?" Clark asked. Maybe Lois had some insight into the new man in Chloe's life that he didn't.

Lois shrugged. "Not well, but she knew him pretty well, years ago. Chloe's usually a decent judge of character."

Clark suddenly felt guilty. Despite the feelings she had once had for him, Chloe had always been very supportive of his own romantic endeavors, and now he turned around and assumed anyone who could take her time away from him was a danger. His gut instinct had been that Jimmy was a good guy, albeit a little... _intense_. He should trust that, and trust Chloe. Once again he found himself surprised at Lois Lane's almost supernatural ability to put things in perspective without even seeming to exert any effort. How the hell did she do that?

"Yeah, Jimmy seems nice," he agreed. With that avenue of conversation now exhausted, Clark cast around for something new to say. His eyes fell on the piles of paper surrounding Lois and suddenly worried that she was still knee-deep in the mystery of Kal-El. "So... what are you working on?" he asked.

Lois sighed tiredly. "Paperwork for your mom. I promised I'd have updated personnel records for her by tomorrow, and I didn't have time to work on them after my date last night."

At the word "date" coming out of Lois's mouth, something uncomfortable stirred in Clark's gut. He hated it when Lois went out on dates. He always had. Honestly, it wasn't something he was entirely sure how to explain, much like Lois herself. Part of it, he supposed, was because he wasn't quite comfortable with connecting Lois and romance together in the same thought. If Lois went on dates and had feelings for men and wanted to find someone to love, then he'd have to reevaluate her yet again.

In Clark's eyes Lois was untouchable, like a faraway lighthouse. It might seem like an inappropriate metaphor for someone so characterized by frenetic energy, but that was how he saw her. Fearless, cocksure, utterly unflappable Lois wasn't a _rea__l _girl, not like Chloe or Lana who needed _saving_ as often as they needed _rescuing_, and while Lois certainly got into her share of trouble, she made it pretty clear that she didn't really need anybody but herself. Sometimes, though, the thought struck him that maybe she wore that legendary strength of hers as armor. Moments when he thought he caught a glimpse of something else in her, like after her sister had blown through Smallville like a hurricane, or the day he had found her kneeling before his father's headstone with tears in her eyes, always caught him off-guard and sent him reeling. The realization that Lois wasn't an ivory tower unto herself, but a living, breathing person who loved absolutely and only struck out so ferociously at the world because she cared too much to let all the wrongs go unchallenged, was a shock to his system every time. And if she went out on dates, searching for someone to save her in that way that all people want to be saved, then Lois was a real girl after all.

Clark wasn't quite sure what that would mean, but ever since the first time he caught a glimpse of the other sides of Lois Lane, he had been terrified of finding out.

"Who were you out with?" he asked awkwardly.

Lois smiled. "Oliver Queen."

Clark's hackles instantly went up. He knew the name. Anybody who had ever even glanced at the tabloid covers by the checkout counter in the supermarket knew the name. Oliver Queen was a playboy so legendary, he made Lex Luthor look chaste.

His feelings must have been clear on his face because Lois, with a patented Lane eye-roll, said, "I was skeptical at first, too, but he's actually very sweet."

"I'm sure he is, Lois, how do you think he gets all those women he dates interested in the first place? That's how guys like him operate!"

Lois's eyebrows went up in surprise at the vehemence in his tone. To be honest, Clark had surprised himself.

"Easy, Smallville. Believe me, I'm not naive," Lois said, amusement in her voice. "I know he's got more notches on his bedpost than Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor combined, but Ollie's a decent guy despite that."

"Ollie?" Clark scoffed. "You've been out with this guy once and you're already calling him by a nickname?"

"Clark, _relax_," Lois said, not amused anymore. "You do this every single time I go on a date, and frankly, I'm getting kind of tired of it."

"Do what?"

"You freak out and get all paranoid that some horrific thing is gonna happen to me if I so much as flirt with a guy. News flash, Smallville: I really am a big girl now and I really can take care of myself."

Clark gave her a disbelieving look. "Come on, Lois. You've gotta admit that your track record hasn't been that great."

She frowned. "I guess there was Tim."

"And Graham."

"And Drew."

Clark's eyes widened. "Who's Drew?"

She shrugged. "Guy I went out with last December. Long story short, he tried to put me on ice, meteor-freak style."

"Why did I never know about this?"

"A, because it wasn't any of your business and B, because I kicked his ass and Sheriff Adams put his ass in prison and that was the end of it."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,' Smallville. I can handle psychopaths and murderers just fine on my own, and let's not forget that not _every_ date I've been on has been a disaster. Remember A.C.? He was a good guy. Ollie is, too. Trust me. I'm every bit as good a judge of character as Chloe is."

Clark hated it when Lois used logic on him. She was dangerous when she was right.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I just don't wanna see you get hurt."

Lois gave him a small smile. "That's very sweet of you, Clark, but I'll be just fine. Besides," she added with a devilish grin, "you couldn't really have thought you'd talk me out of dating someone who's as good a kisser as Oliver Queen is, could you?"

Clark felt himself flush scarlet as Lois laughed at his expense.

* * *

><p>The next Friday, Lois found herself standing outside the Talon at two in the morning. She had been out with Oliver for their second-and-a-half date. It had been an odd night. Deeply enjoyable, of course, but Ollie had said some weird things.<p>

He had taken her to the opera in Metropolis- _Cosi fan tutte_- and they had laughed at the riotous antics of Mozart's ludicrous sets of mismatched lovers, and afterwards they had gone to a seedy bar Lois knew for a fact served the best mojitos on the city, caring not a whit that they were dressed formally in a room full of blue collar workers in denim and fraternity boys in polo shirts.

Lois, thinking it would make a funny anecdote, had brought up Clark's paranoia about her love life.

"Sounds to me like he's jealous," Oliver had remarked once she finished.

"Smallville?" Lois scoffed. "Hardly! He doesn't think of me like that."

"He's a guy, isn't he?"

"Of course he is," Lois said, and her traitor of a brain conjured up an image of the first time they had met, reaffirming that yes, Clark Kent was many strange things but he was _definitely_ male.

"Then trust me, he's thought of you "like that" at least once," Oliver said firmly. "That's kind of how men operate, much though we try to deny it. Even the girls we're not attracted to... the thought still crosses our minds. And as beautiful as you are, this "Smallville" would have to be from another planet not to want you."

Suppressing the twinge of irritation at hearing Oliver use her personal nickname for Clark, Lois teased, "Sounds to me like Clark isn't the jealous one here."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "You do bring him up an awful lot," he pointed out.

Lois almost choked on her mojito. "Well, we're friends!" she sputtered out. "Friends mention each other to the other people in their life." At Oliver's skeptical look, Lois continued, "Clark and I? No way. Not in this lifetime. He's this dorky farm boy, not even remotely my type. He wouldn't know fun if it dropped a full keg on his head. And besides, his favorite hobby (besides driving me crazy) is stalking Lex Luthor's girlfriend. I have no desire to _ever_ be on the receiving end of the amount of emotional baggage Smallville carries around."

Oliver had seemed to accept that, and the evening had culminated in a passionate kiss on her doorstep that Lois was sure would be playing on a loop in her head until she saw him again, but something about that conversation was still rubbing her the wrong way.

Okay, so maybe she had gone a little overboard with her Clark-bashing in her attempt to reassure Oliver's random jealous moment, and _maybe_ to someone who was unfamiliar with how her relationship with Clark worked, it might have seemed as though the lady doth protest too much. But the fact was, although in a twisted way she was pleased that Oliver had expressed feelings of jealousy because it leant a little reassurance that he actually cared about her and she wasn't just another bit of arm candy in his long train of fleeting relationships, Lois had never liked jealous men. She wanted Oliver to have no doubts that he had thoroughly caught and held her attention. Sure, Clark was hot and all, but everything else she had said about his less-desirable qualities was true as well.

Shaking her head as Oliver's Audi disappeared out the end of the alley behind the Talon, she decided it wasn't worth fretting over. She was seeing Oliver, and his thoughts on the nature of her friendship with Clark were just random jealous suspicion with next to no foundation. She entered the Talon and headed up the stairs.

Chloe, unsurprisingly, was still awake. She pulled some pretty late nights trying to balance her work at the Planet with the online classes MetU was offering now due to their campus being just a tad bit destroyed during the chaos of Dark Thursday. Lois was glad, because she was eager to talk over her date with her exciting new gentleman caller with her little cousin.

"You were out a bit late, weren't you?" Chloe asked.

Lois shrugged. "Ollie took me to the opera. It was kind of a long drive back from Metropolis."

"The opera?" Chloe's voice had an uncharacteristic bite to it. "Not really your style, is it?"

"Not ordinarily, no, but I had fun."

Chloe's eyebrows went up. "Never thought you were the type to change yourself for a guy."

"I'm not!" she protested. "It's not my usual thing, but that doesn't mean that it isn't something I enjoy occasionally."

"I guess when you're dating a billionaire, you can afford to cater to his tastes," Chloe said churlishly.

Lois stared at her cousin, hardly able to believe the snippy tone coming from her mouth. "Jeez, Chloe, what crawled up your ass and died? That was totally uncalled for."

Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. "I'm sorry. You're right. It's just been a long night... I shouldn't have said that."

"That's okay," Lois replied. "I guess I should expect a little disbelief for awhile. I mean, an army brat and a billionaire CEO? Not exactly a likely pair, are we?"

Chloe shrugged noncommittally. "Still, I am sorry."

Lois nodded. "Well, I'm gonna crash. I'm totally beat."

Girl talk about Oliver could wait until they'd both had some sleep and Chloe was out of this utterly charming mood, the wrong side of which she'd accidentally stumbled onto.


	6. 5: Muckraking and Other Extreme Sports

**A/N-** Greetings from the road! I'm on vacation and soon to be in Canada! The state of Vermont (or at least the part of it inhabiting the campground with the free wifi) says hello!

This chapter was supposed to be out a lot sooner, but it was a real monster and took forever. You'll see why when you realize how insanely long it is. This chapter is longer than a lot of mid-length fics I've read, so brace yourself. And the sad thing? There were originally going to be three more scenes, but I pared this chapter down to the absolute minimum. Enjoy... if you can.

* * *

><p>5. Muckraking and Other Extreme Sports<p>

"_Well you can run but you can never hide _  
><em>From the shadow that's creeping up beside you <em>  
><em>There's a magic running through your soul <em>  
><em>But you can't have it all.<em>"  
>-Def Leppard<p>

* * *

><p>"What else can you tell us about the perp, Miss Lane?"<p>

"Well, I couldn't I.D. the guy, but he didn't exactly stick around to chat."

"You told Mr. Luthor that you almost caught the guy, yet you expect me to believe you didn't see anything?"

"Look, Lionel Luthor pays SafeTech... what? A gazillion dollars for personal security? So don't blame me if you let a boy scout with an archery badge crash his party."

Oliver Queen had known a lot of women in his life. That was no secret. Before his days marooned on a certain tropical island, he had been infamous for the number of starlets and models who had graced his arm and his bed. He had known the scheming daughters of industrialists determined to impress their daddies with their cutting business acumen. Witty and bright girls had flocked his way in college. And there had been one particular scarlet-haired marine biologist who had terrified him with her intellect, her strength, and the potential power to break him she had held, and sent him running for the hills as fast as he could go. Yes, Oliver had encountered a great many women.

Despite this, though, he could most emphatically say that he'd never met anybody quite like Lois Lane. They had been seeing each other regularly for the month since Lex Luthor's Dark Thursday benefit, and she was certainly one of a kind. As he watched his girlfriend spar with the SafeTech representative sent to investigate his masked alter-ego's little surprise visit to Luthor's latest charity function, he tried to figure out what it was about her that had captivated him so.

She was decidedly intelligent, but then, Tess had been so much smarter. She was funny, but he'd known plenty of funny girls. She had guts as she'd more than proved this evening, but he wasn't exactly surprised, with what little he knew of her background. She was worldly, she was dynamic, she possessed an impressive talent for sarcastic repartee, and she was sexy as hell, but again, he'd known girls with all those qualities before. No, it was something else about her that had him hooked, and he'd be damned if he knew what it was.

"Okay," he said, closing the book he'd been pretending to peruse with a sharp snap. "I think Miss Lane's made her point... wouldn't you say? She'll call you if she remembers anything."

The round-faced security man with the salt and pepper hair gave him an irritated glance, but acknowledged his pointed hint by beating a hasty retreat from the clock-tower penthouse.

Oliver watched until the elevator had descended out of sight, then turned back to his smirking girlfriend.

"So what aren't you telling him?"

Lois rose from her seat on the sofa, the cocky little jaunt in her step unbelievably (and surely unwittingly) sexy. "Let's just say William Tell isn't the only one who walked away with a serious party favor," she said, and to Oliver's shock, she held up for his observation the ring which had belonged to his father, engraved with the Queen family crest.

Okay, add sneaky to Lois Lane's list of unexpectedly appealing attributes.

"Why didn't you tell Lionel's little guard dog about that?" he asked, fumbling to disguise his shock at the sentimental family heirloom she was waving under his nose.

A strange look, a combination of anticipation and reluctance, crossed her features. "I-" she began, but before she could complete her thought, one of Oliver's personnel stepped into the room.

"Mr. Queen?" he said respectfully, and stepped aside to reveal another visitor's presence in the penthouse.

In the years afterwards, Oliver would be able to vividly recall his first impression of the young man, who couldn't possibly be older than twenty, if that. He was tall, with classic good looks that were sure to prove a threat to Oliver's personal vanity, and there was something about the way he carried himself that struck Oliver very powerfully. The bizarre, fleeting thought passed through his mind that if he were a Queen, then this boy was surely a king. His attire was blue collar in the extreme, but there was a... a _presence_ about him that would not be ignored.

"They told me you were up here," the newcomer said, addressing Lois immediately.

"Smallville?" Lois responded incredulously, and before he even processed the now-familiar nickname, he was immediately aware of the subtle note of stress that had entered her voice. "It's almost midnight."

And then her words played back in his head, the penny dropped, and Oliver suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut. "Smallville?" he enquired. "_You're_ Clark Kent?"

"You must be Oliver Queen," he responded politely, extending his arm to grasp Oliver's hand in a noticeably firm handshake.

"Yeah," Oliver replied faintly.

When Lois had first brought up this friend, the son of her employer, he had picked up on a weird vibe from her, but upon her less-than-glowing description of Clark Kent, he had dismissed it. Her summary of him had painted a picture in his mind of a stringy-limbed farmer's son with coke-bottle glasses and no fashion sense. The last, at least, seemed to ring true, but he had not expected the oddly-named Clark to look like a Greek god and possess the aura to match. Nor had he expected the electricity that was arcing almost visibly through the air between Clark and Lois.

_Very_ interesting.

"This is funny, it's just, you know, the way Lois talked about you, I thought you were gonna be a little bit more-"

"I could use some water!" Lois interrupted abruptly, a panicked look on her face.

Oliver couldn't help the twinge of amusement at her obvious discomfort.

"A little more... what?" Kent asked, awareness in his eyes.

"Well..." Oliver fudged.

"Of a geek?" he guessed, blue eyes trained fixedly on Lois, a smirk that spoke of long familiarity playing with the corners of his mouth.

To her credit, Lois recovered with her usual verbal grace. "Well, you're not exactly jumping the velvet ropes at nightclubs, so..." She shrugged, apparently unconcerned, but Oliver thought he could read a hint of something else in her eyes. Setting it aside, he turned to flash an amused smile in Kent's direction.

The younger man's knowing smirk grew and he said, "It's really nice to see that Lois has found someone who can overlook her personality." And if Oliver wasn't being scorched by the sparks between them, he might even have believed Kent's supposed disinterest.

"Ah, well, don't worry about it Clark," he remarked, determined to bring control over this little encounter back into his court, "If I lived under the same roof with such a beautiful woman, I'd have masked my feelings in sarcasm, too."

Satisfied with his little turning of the tables, Oliver walked up the steps out of the sunken apartment floor and onto the main level, literally taking the high ground even as he regained it metaphorically. He listened in amusement as both Kent and Lois tried to fumble their way out of the awkwardness he had forced them into.

Kent, for his part, simply avoided Oliver's implication and all but hauled the conversation around to the little incident with Lionel Luthor's pilfered necklace. His intentions, Oliver quickly determined, were good. However, it was obvious that for all his force of personality, the kid was naive and sadly lacking in facts. He couldn't resist dropping a few hints about the legality of Luthor's possession of that particular jewel, and in doing so he was pretty sure he had revealed a little more information than he wanted to about his own alter-ego's activities, but who cared? It wasn't as if a farmer from Kansas was exactly likely to work out that _he_ was the modern-day Robin Hood!

* * *

><p>The next morning, Lois found herself standing at the corner of Fifth Street and Concord Lane, staring up at the great golden globe that topped the building before which she stood. Inside the manila folder she held was an article, entitled "Attack of the Green Arrow Bandit." She would never let it show, but her nerves were singing with tense anticipation.<p>

Until the day she died, she was sure she would protest that this was all Chloe's fault. It had been Chloe who convinced her to write those articles for the Torch, the ones that had made something in her come rushing to life even though she had done her best to deny it. It had been Chloe who had dragged her into keeping her company during those long late-night shifts working the phone lines in the Daily Planet basement. It had been Chloe who, after Lois had proclaimed that she could never be an investigative journalist because she could never let it go, had informed her that that was usually how it started.

Yes, it was definitely Chloe's fault. Chloe had planted the seeds.

Unfortunately, Lois could only blame herself for nurturing them. It was difficult to admit, but she wanted to be something better than she had been. Her work with Senator Kent was important, yes, and certainly better than being a muffin peddler, thank you very much, Lex! Still, she knew that the only reason she had been given that job was because of her close personal relationship with the Kent family. True, she felt she had acquitted herself well, both as campaign manager and as chief of staff, but she wanted something she had really earned for herself. Somehow, the search for clues about Kal-El had planted the thought in her head just how much she loved getting to the bottom of a mystery.

That was how she had found herself, late last night, typing up the account of her encounter with the masked man who had crashed Lionel Luthor's fundraiser, and that was how she found herself standing outside the Daily Planet, working up the nerve to go in.

She wanted this. Oh god, she wanted this enough that it was dangerous. She didn't dare hope that anything would actually come of it, because this was something that might actually _matter_. She didn't dare let herself actually wish for it... except that it was too late. There was something in her that was crying out that this was right for her, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

At last, with a fortifying breath sucked into her lungs, she propelled herself forward through the revolving doors, grateful that her close relationship with her cousin had given her an intimate knowledge of the building. Unerringly, she made her way to the city editor's office on the fourth floor.

She had debated heading downstairs to show Chloe her article first, but things had been a little funny between them for the last week or so, ever since that comment Chloe had made after her night at the opera with Ollie. Lois wondered if living together in such confined quarters wasn't putting a strain on their relationship. One way or another, she wasn't going to say a word about this to anybody until she actually had something to tell.

She paused for another few moments outside the door to the office she had sought out, screwing her courage to the sticking-place, as it were, and then she took the plunge.

She knocked and entered.

"How can I help you?" asked the middle-aged man who presumably was the Marco Espinoza the placard on the door proclaimed occupied this office. He was distinguished-looking, well-dressed, with sharp eyes currently dulled somewhat by noticeable fatigue.

"My name's Lois Lane," she said. "I have... well, I have a story."

Mr. Espinoza let out a barely-perceptible sigh. "You'll have to call our news hotline or make an appointment with one of our reporters if-"

"No," she interrupted. "I mean I have a _story_." She opened the folder and placed her article on the desk for his examination.

He glanced very briefly at the paper in front of him before looking up at her with a regretful look on his face. "Look, I'm sorry, Miss... Lane, was it? I'm sure this is a fine article, but we're the Daily Planet. We don't print a lot of freelance, and what we do is from established names in the business. You'd probably have better luck at the Inquisitor or the National Whisper."

Lois opened her mouth to argue the point when the door opened again. A portly man, with thinning grey hair and an aura of authority, entered the room. If Marco Espinoza's eyes were intelligent and beady, this man's gaze was wiser, and Lois got an immediate impression that he didn't miss much. She wondered if he was a reporter.

"Morning, Espinoza," he said brusquely, setting a little stack of papers on the desk. "I was just on my way down from International and Delaney asked me to run this down to you, since I was heading this way anyway." His blue eyes flicked to Lois and he narrowed his gaze slightly. "I haven't interrupted anything, have I?"

"No," Mr. Espinoza said firmly. "Miss Lane here was just leaving."

"No, actually, I'm not," Lois asserted. "I understand what you're saying, Mr. Espinoza, I really do, but at least read it before you just write me off like that."

"Read what?" the newcomer asked.

"Miss Lane here brought me an article. I was just explaining to her that the Planet doesn't publish much freelance work."

The older man snorted. "Nonsense. Here, let me see this article."

Reluctantly, Mr. Espinoza handed over the two sheets of paper that comprised Lois's article, and she waited with baited breath as the heavyset man perused her work. After an interminable two minutes, he looked up at her, and she was dismayed to realize that she couldn't read his expression.

"Is all this true?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she assured him. "I was an eyewitness. And-" she added, suspecting that this would further her case, "-it's an exclusive. By the time this Green Arrow Bandit character showed up, the limo-chaser types had all left, and there were no serious journalists there last night."

His eyebrows went up. "Aside from yourself, of course."

"Yeah," Lois ventured to agree. "So... what do you think?"

He shrugged. "I think your spelling is atrocious, it could use a few more quotes, and it's long-winded. I also think that it's factual, entertaining, and your style is snappy, if a little unpolished."

He shot a look at Mr. Espinoza, who groaned. "Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Oh, come on, give the girl a chance." At this, Lois felt her heart rate accelerate dramatically. "It's a helluva good story. Drama, mystery, danger, and just the slightest hint of social awareness. Not to mention, it won't be tremendously difficult for our fact-checkers to verify."

"Perry, for the love of God, how old can this girl possibly be? Twenty?"

"First off, I'm twenty-one. And second, let's not talk about me as if I weren't even here, thanks."

Her supporter shot her what she thought might be an approving glance. "And after all, Marco, you and I both are living proof that age and experience isn't always an advantage in this game. I've got a feeling about this one. Call it reporter's intuition."

Mr. Espinoza hesitated a moment longer, then sighed. "I suppose we do have some empty space to fill up on page three of tomorrow's morning edition," he acquiesced.

"That's a good boy," the other man said, though Espinoza could not have been more than ten years his junior.

Lois felt her stomach fill with butterflies. "Are you serious?" she asked.

Espinoza shrugged. "I'll put your spelling to rights and fax it up to Pauline for approval. If she gives the green light, we'll run it."

A broad smile spread itself across Lois's features quite without her permission or any semblance of self-control. "Thank you," she said.

"Sure, Miss Lane," Espinoza said resignedly. He scribbled a few lines on a notepad, tore it off, and handed it to her. "Listen, take this down to Mandy in Personnel- that's the sixth floor- and she'll get your information so we can contact you. Someone will be in touch tonight or tomorrow to go over payment details, alright?"

Lois nodded, and shook the city editor's hand, too excited to really care that if it had been up to him, she'd have been sent straight out the door.

She exited the office, clutching the paper he'd handed her. She discovered that her unknown defender had followed her out. "Thanks," she said, feeling ever so slightly nervous. Something about the man inspired a certain respect. It was a quality Jonathan Kent had possessed, as well.

"Don't mention it," he said. "Marco's a decent editor but he doesn't have a lick of imagination." After a brief pause, he asked, "So, what's your next move, Miss Lane?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you've got half as much potential as that piece of work you left in there seems to indicate, you know that's not the whole story."

"Well _duh_," Lois said. That was painfully obvious. The Green Arrow Bandit's identity was still a mystery and until he'd been unmasked, the story was still absolutely _dripping_ juice.

He chuckled. "You mentioned in your article that Mr. Luthor didn't see fit to inform the police of this little incident. Now, I know Lionel Luthor pretty well. He can be extremely dangerous to provoke, but if you're very careful, and you're up for a real challenge... Well, let's just say if I were you, I'd be wondering why he doesn't want the law poking around, especially when something so valuable has been stolen."

It had occurred to Lois, admittedly, especially after Ollie had brought it up the previous night, but she'd been so focussed on the GAB angle that she hadn't thought very seriously about it.

"I can tell just by looking at you that you're all fired up to go chasing down this masked man," he continued, "and that's a good plan, too. But if you start making a name for yourself writing big splashy articles about this Green Arrow character-"

"Green Arrow _Bandit_."

"Right, whatever. Like I say, if you go that route, you're at risk for becoming a one-trick pony. All sensationalism and bright shiny things and not a whole lot of substance. I wasn't kidding when I said I thought you had potential. Don't waste it. Too many kids these days _do_ waste it. They go yellow and real reporting goes by the wayside. The days of the real muckrakers are over."

"But it doesn't have to be that way," Lois said slowly, trying to conceal the fact that she was wholly overwhelmed by this unexpected encounter.

"Precisely, Miss Lane. So by all means, follow up on the thief's angle. But if you want to be thorough about this... look into Luthor's side of the story, too."

Lois nodded. Something- she wasn't quite sure what, yet- was catching fire inside her. "Thanks for the advice. And please, call me Lois," she said. "You know, I don't think I caught your name."

He grinned and stuck out a hand. "Perry White, at your service."

She shook his hand. "Lois Lane. But, you knew that."

* * *

><p>Lana pulled the shiny silver Bentley into a parking space in front of the Talon, killed the motor, and for a few moments she sat frozen, debating her next move.<p>

That morning, upon returning from a run with Lex, she had been made privy to the information that he had found the hard drive taken from the black ship. Not only had he found it, he was studying it, and that terrified Lana. Lex had the best of intentions, but she knew him only too well. Moreover, she had seen what could happen when Lex got in too deep with forces he didn't understand- Dark Thursday was proof enough of that.

She wasn't sure what to do, to be honest. Reason was telling her to end all connection with Zod and Professor Fine and erase every last piece of evidence that the black ship had ever come into their lives, but her instincts, which experience had finely crafted for survival before all else, screamed that the black box might be the key to saving themselves when the aliens came back. And Lana had no doubts whatsoever that they would come back. Lois's account of her experience in the Arctic, the faceless Kal-El who haunted her life, all this proved that Dark Thursday wasn't the last time that extraterrestrial intelligences would interfere on Earth. And there was a part of her, in some dark place within her, that whispered that ensuring survival was worth any cost.

The indecision within herself frightened her, and it was for this reason that she was seeking outside council. She could never have gone to Chloe with this. Chloe would run to Clark and Clark would read off another lecture about how it was too dangerous, as if he had any idea at all what the stakes were. Her scattered handful of friends beyond Chloe were so far removed from everything her life had become that she didn't see how any of them could provide the necessary perspective.

But Lois... Lois had been her partner on Dark Thursday, the one she had relied on to fight by her side against Zod. She had seen what the black box was capable of, and on the previous occasions when she had gone to Lois for advice, she had discovered her to be unexpectedly insightful, almost wise, like the big sister Lana had never had.

That was what had led her here, to the Talon apartment. She knocked on the door and it was opened by a harried-looking Lois who, Lana guessed, had only just arrived home herself. Lois had one arm in and one arm out of her jacket, her purse was dangling by one handle from her fingers, and she was missing a shoe.

"Hi Lana," she said, looking surprised.

Lana smiled a little uncomfortably. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, just- it's one of those days where it kinda feels like inanimate objects might hate you a little, you know?"

She felt a little of the tension across her shoulders ease and she felt the smile on her face become more genuine. "I completely understand. There were days when I thought the cappuccino machine downstairs was actively trying to make my life more difficult."

"Yeah, and today it's the heating system," Lois complained. "I swear, if this apartment got any hotter, I could cook eggs on the ceiling!"

Lois moved away from the door, removing her jacket the rest of the way as she did so, in a clear invitation for Lana to enter the apartment. She did so, closing the door gently behind her. Lois dropped the jacket carelessly on the counter and moved to open one of the windows by the sitting area, hoping to gain some relief by way of the influx of cool October air.

"So are you here to see Chloe?" she asked. "Because as you can see, she's not here just now."

"Um, actually, I came to see you."

"Me?" Lois looked bemused.

Lana nodded. "Something's happened, and... I'm not sure what to do about it."

Lois's eyebrows climbed. "Okay. Sounds serious." She sat down on the sofa and indicated that Lana should, too.

"It is," Lana agreed, taking the empty seat beside her. "Do you remember the hard drive Zod was using to control the satellites?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Well, Lex found it, and now he's studying it."

Lois's expression was an unlikely combination of surprise and resignation. "That shouldn't shock me, but somehow it does. Talk about giving fire to mortals!"

Lana folded her hands tensely in her lap. "I know. It's dangerous. But there's also a part of me that thinks that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if we understood how this kind of technology worked."

"Like a failsafe if anything like that ever happened again," Lois guessed.

"Precisely."

"Bad idea," she said without any hesitation. "It's bad enough we've got enough nuclear missiles stashed around the globe to take out the entire solar system and then some. Do we really need to add defenses we barely understand from technology we didn't develop ourselves to the equation?"

When put like that, Lana's instinctive reaction to clutch at any protective measures she could seemed like flimsy reasoning. "You may be right."

"You want my advice? Try to convince Lex to lay off the research for awhile. He doesn't have the best track record for messing with things he doesn't understand."

Lana nodded slowly. "I could try to talk to him, I guess."

Lois smiled in what seemed to be an encouraging manner. "Lex trusts you. If you give him advice, he'll probably listen to you."

"It's true. That's been refreshing, actually," Lana observed. But that was skirting too close to territory- tall, dark, lie-telling territory- that Lana wasn't willing to explore. "So... have you looked at that page from my research I pointed out to you?" she asked, as a way to divert the conversation.

Lois shook her head. "Between Ollie and my work for Mrs. Kent and-" She faltered ever so briefly, uncharacteristic for Lois, and Lana took note. "-And some other stuff, I've been too busy to do much research lately."

"What-"

Before Lana could finish her sentence, there was a loud thunk, and a green-shafted arrow embedded itself in the arm of the sofa next to her.

"What the-?" Lois stood up and moved to look at the unexpected intrusion in her apartment, but before she had taken a single step, tiny holes along the shaft of the arrow released powerful jets of gas. Lana felt her world swim, and everything went quickly black.

Some time later, Lana came slowly back to awareness with a pounding headache. "What happened?" she asked.

Lois was on the floor, half-slumped over the coffee table. She pulled herself vertical, groaning and clutching at her skull as she did so. She looked around, spied the source of their unconsciousness, and spat an invective. "Green Arrow Bandit," she said.

"Who?"

"The guy who crashed Lionel's party last night and stole the diamond necklace Mrs. Kent was wearing. I had evidence that might have revealed his identity." She surged to her feet (and from the shade of green she turned, immediately regretted it) and rushed to her bedroom, where she opened a little box on her bedside table. Another round of cursing filled the air in the apartment. "Yes, he stole the ring. Well, I guess it's not technically stealing since it was originally his to begin with, but seeing as he's been stealing left and right from the wealthy of Metropolis, I think I'm justified in taking something I fully intend to return when they're putting him into his orange jumpsuit."

"Sounds like a modern day Robin Hood," Lana said weakly.

Lois froze in her tracks. Suddenly, her expression became luminous. "Modern day Robin Hood... Lana, you're a genuis!"

"What did I say?" she asked, trying very hard not to be sick as her head throbbed painfully. Lois surely couldn't be in much better condition, but she seemed too excited to notice.

"I was looking over a list of heists that were probably committed by the Green Arrow Bandit, and there was something funny about all the crimes, but I just couldn't put my finger on it! Modern day- Lana, thank you! You just gave me my angle! I can't believe you spotted it!"

Lana was becoming more and more sure that she was going to be sick, and decided it would be wise to return to the mansion before she redecorated Chloe's rug. "I'm glad I could help," she mumbled. "I think I'm gonna go search for some aspirin."

"Yeah, whatever it was that bastard dosed us with, it sure packs a punch, doesn't it?"

Lana nodded, and regretted it. "Mm-hm," she said through tightly-pressed lips. "Bye."

She exited the apartment in a hurry, unwilling to lose her dignity in front of Lois as she was sure she was about to. Once outside in the fresh air, she began to feel better, and for a few minutes she just leaned against the door of her car, breathing deeply and trying to settle her stomach.

Her phone beeped. When she looked at it, she found a message from Lionel Luthor: _We need to talk. Meet me at LuthorCorp Tower at your earliest convenience_._  
><em>

Lana felt something hard and cold take shape in her gut. With the revelation of the continued existence of the black box still fresh in her mind, she was sure there could be only one thing the Luthor patriarch wanted to discuss.

* * *

><p><em>Lane;<em>

_I suggest you take a look at Section A, page 3 of tomorrow's Planet. I imagine  
>you'll be pleased with what you find. We changed the name of this guy down<br>to just Green Arrow. Adding the Bandit bit to the end was making it a bit of a  
>mouthful. Nice attempt, but Green Arrow's catchier. Marco trimmed down<br>__some of the stuff __in your fourth paragraph, all that bluster where you implied  
>you knew this <em>_guy's identity. First off, that sort of stuff attracts the wrong  
>kind of attention, <em>_and second off, never print what you can't prove. If you  
>don't have facts and <em>_sources, don't write it._

_Consider that your Journalism 101 lesson for the day, free of charge. And if you  
>want first jump on the follow-up article, I suggest you get cracking, Lane.<em>

_-White_

_Mr. White;_

_Thanks again for your help this morning. I'd probably be peddling trash for  
>the Inquisitor right now if you hadn't stepped in.<em>

_Re: a follow-up, I've attached a list of crimes attributed to the Green Arrow  
>(I still think Green Arrow Bandit sounds better). Take a look at the items<br>stolen. Notice what they have in common? I think working the rob-from-  
>the-rich angle about the black market items that have been returned to<br>their legitimate former owners might be an interesting twist to the story.  
>Thoughts?<em>

_-LL_

_Lane;_

_Love it. It's just scandalous enough to move papers, but not enough to piss  
>off the rich and easily irritated of Metropolis. Get me quotes, get me sources,<br>and you've got yourself a follow-up article._

_-White_

* * *

><p>Milo Graethe, chief security officer for SafeTech Security Inc., examined the article on the third page of the Daily Planet. "This is an embarrassment," he said to no one in particular. "Twenty-six years as the most respected security firm in the Midwest, and this girl turns us into a laughingstock with one article."<p>

"Since when is Lane a reporter, anyway?" his latest piece of hired muscle inquired. "We ran a background check on her and everyone else at Mr. Luthor's event. There's no mention of any previous history in journalism aside from some high school paper."

"Guess she saw a chance to make a quick buck and jumped on the opportunity," Milo speculated.

"Think she knows anything?" the other man asked. "We could, uh, question her."

Ponderously, Milo shook his head. "No, I don't think so. She's all brass. If she had something, she'd have printed it. No, we don't need to question Miss Lane."

His flunky looked disproportionately disappointed.

"However," Milo added, "It might be a good idea to keep our eye on her for the time being. She just might stumble on something important without realizing it."

"What do you want us to do?"

"I think a tracker on her car and a few microphones in that apartment of hers should be sufficient, don't you? She's not _that_ likely to find anything."

* * *

><p>"I didn't know blackmail was one of your talents," Lex observed dryly.<p>

Lana felt herself go pale. Of _course_ Dr. Grohl would have gone straight to Lex. She probably should have foreseen that, but her meeting with Lionel had thrown her head into such a spin. "Lex, um, I know I went behind your back, but I wanted to do this my way. And if you're mad -"

"Actually, I'm impressed. I never had anyone try to protect me like that," Lex interrupted.

"Lex, we have a serious problem - your father. He isn't gonna stop until he gets that black box away from you," she rejoined.

"Because he's afraid of what I'll do. What about you? Is there a part of you that wonders the same thing?"

"No. I believe in you. But, Lex, there is something that I haven't been completely honest with you about. I knew the box was a weapon." This was a dangerous conversation, and she knew it. Depending on how this talk went, she and Lex would have a relationship of trust and security, or they would have a relationship built on secrets and lies. And she had had enough of closed-off, lying men.

"If the box is that dangerous, you want me to shut the project down, don't you?" Lex asked.

This was it. This was the turning point. And until this moment, Lana honestly hadn't been sure which side of the argument she would fall on. Her initial reaction had been to throw her every effort into studying the box, but after her conversation with Lois, she hadn't been so sure. When Lionel had suggested they destroy the box, her deep-seated mistrust of the man had made her lash out instinctively in the opposite direction. She had threatened Dr. Grohl, who had run to Lex, which was what had led her to having this conversation. But now that her initial reaction to her conversation with Lionel had passed, Lois's words were echoing in her head again.

"Yes," she said frankly. "Honestly, Lex, there's a part of me that desperately wants to cling to anything that might save us from them next time. But I don't think this is the way to do it. I'm afraid of what happened the last time we investigated technology we didn't understand. What if this time, we unleash something worse?"

"Worse than Zod? That seems unlikely."

Lana nodded. "I know. But once upon a time I thought there couldn't be anything worse than the meteor showers, too. As much as I want to use the black box as a security blanket, I think there has to be a better way to protect ourselves."

"Tell me, Lana: is this you talking, or Chloe?"

Lana was instantly offended. "This is all me, Lex. I don't know what the right thing to do is, but I don't need Chloe or Clark to tell me what I should think."

She watched the contriteness spread itself across his face. "Of course you don't. I'm sorry, Lana."

"Suspicion is in your nature," Lana said, "and the pair of them have hurt you almost as badly as they've hurt me. I don't blame you for jumping to conclusions, especially when I'm so jumbled up lately."

Lex nodded. "Alright then. I propose a compromise. We'll give Dr. Grohl two more weeks to study the box. We'll learn all we can from it, try to understand this technology, at least enough to help us if they ever come back, and then we destroy it."

Lana thought this over. "I agree. That seems reasonable."

He brushed a kiss on her lips. "See, Lana? You protect me from myself."

* * *

><p>It was very late the next afternoon when Lois finished her second article on Green Arrow's crimes. She had spent a good part of the day on the phone, tracking down several previous owners of the various items her would-be William Tell had stolen. She had confirmed that many of them had been bought on the black market after being lifted from prestigious museums, galleries, and private collections the world over. Shortly after Green Arrow "borrowed" them, they showed up back with their previous owners. She wasn't entirely sure what to think of the mysterious Green Arrow, but Lana had been right about him.<p>

Her article, she thought, was pretty good. She had put a great deal of effort into living up to the "fair and balanced" aspect of her new vocation, and she thought she had succeeded admirably. She gave credit where credit was due to the Arrow, but had also tried to avoid vilifying billionaires who might be completely unaware of their possessions' less-than-legal status. Operative word: "might."

And with her work for the Senator and her article for the Planet wrapped up, she was finally free to return to her own pursuits.

Lana's star charts absorbed her for several hours. As the sky fell dark outside, Lois finally came to the page to which Lana had specifically indicated she should pay attention. She did a double-take when she looked at one of the quadrants. She looked. She looked again. She pulled out her calculator and punched in a series of equations, staring at them in disbelief when she came up with her answers.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "It's Kal-El's ship."

Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and dialed Lana's cell number. It rang and rang and she got no answer. She tried the mansion, and was informed that the members of the household had already gone to bed for the night.

Lois's head was awhirl. The new information that had clicked into place with the rest of the story she was slowly piecing together was spinning around and around and she felt that if she didn't tell someone about it she would explode. Lana was asleep, and Chloe wouldn't be back from Metropolis for hours yet, if previous weeks' habits were any indication. Maybe, however, she could talk to Mrs. Kent. If anyone would be willing to listen to her talk through her discoveries, it would be Mrs. Kent.

She broke land speed records to get to the Kent farm, catching the last remnants of a gorgeous sunset that she barely noticed.

As she turned off the gravel road onto the driveway of the farm, a shiny Lamborghini pulled out past her. She wasn't positive, but she thought she saw a familiar handsome face and a shock of blond hair through the tinted windows. What the hell would Oliver be doing at the Kent farm?

Dismissing the question for the time being, she looked ahead. The lights were all out in the farmhouse, but she noticed the lights were still illuminated in the loft. If Mrs. Kent wasn't awake, Clark would have to do.

* * *

><p>Oliver had been waiting for him in the loft when he arrived home. A confrontation at the sites of Green Arrow's latest heists had led Clark- with a little help from his x-ray vision- to discover his identity, so it was unsurprising that Oliver would show up here. The billionaire held up the paper he was examining, the headline boldly proclaiming his parents missing at sea.<p>

"I didn't realize I was such a fascinating subject. You've been reading up on me. You and Lois ought to start a fan club," he remarked.

"You gonna tell her?" he asked, referring to the big green elephant in the room.

"I don't know, Clark. You know, you seem to be doing a pretty good job skating by with this farm-boy charade," Oliver replied. "With the powers you have... you're the Kal-El guy she's been searching for, aren't you?"

Clark shrugged. "Believe what you like. Just know that you can't be with someone unless they know who you really are. Trust me, I've tried."

Oliver's eyes betrayed just a hint of sympathy. "You lost her to Lex."

"Yeah."

"Is that why you hate me, Clark? 'Cause I'm just another silver-spoon-fed rich boy, is that it? Or is it because I'm not willing to play the martyr like you?"

Clark didn't even bother to respond to that. He wasn't that kind of person and if they were going to be regular parts of each others lives, Oliver would learn that in time. "You can play this game as long as you want. But sooner or later, you're gonna hurt her. You know that," he warned him.

"And let me guess: when I inevitably break Lois's heart, you're gonna be right there to pick up the pieces, just like Lex was when you broke up with Lana. Am I right?"

"I am nothing like Lex Luthor," Clark protested firmly. "And besides, I'm not interested in Lois like that. We're friends."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Heard that one before."

"I'm serious. We're friends."

Oliver didn't deign to reply to his continued protestations. Instead, he pulled a second newspaper out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "So, why did nobody tell me I was dating a member of the press corps?"

"What?" Clark asked.

"_Mysterious Masked Man Crashes Luthor Fundraiser by Lois Lane_," Oliver read from one of the inside pages of the Daily Planet. "She's got them calling me "the Green Arrow." Pretty good code name, I'll give her that."

"Let me see that!" Clark exclaimed, taking the paper from Oliver's hands. Sure enough, right there in black and white was an article with Lois's name on the byline. Clark's eyes were practically bugging out of his head. "Since when is Lois a reporter?" Chloe would be thrilled. She'd been trying to convince Lois to take journalism more seriously as an option for ages.

"Guess her investigative tendencies don't stop at researching decades-old meteor showers trying to find aliens," Oliver remarked.

He pulled out the diamond necklace he had stolen the night of Lionel's charity ball and placed it in Clark's hands. He explained how Lionel had used the necklace to launder LuthorCorp money, and suggested that if Clark was so clear on what was right and what was wrong, maybe he should be in charge of figuring out who the necklace belonged to.

"You didn't come here to prove a point about morality," Clark said pointedly. "Why are you really here? To make sure I won't tell Lois your secret?"

Oliver shrugged. "Hey, man, secret identities are off-limits. I'm not telling if you aren't. It's just... Clark, you have abilities I couldn't even dream of. And I admire that you use them to save the people you're close to."

Clark could hear the "but" just hanging in the air.

"But there's a whole world of people out there, Clark. They need us. With your potential... you can't wait for them to come to you. When you're ready to do something about that... you let me know. We could do some amazing things for all the people out there who need someone to believe in."

And with that, he descended the stairs and Clark heard the purr of his expensive engine.

* * *

><p>"Was that Ollie I just saw pulling out?" Lois asked from the stairs. "What was he doing here?"<p>

She was wearing a red blouse tonight. She looked good in red. She teased him a lot about his fondness for primary colors, but he'd noticed that she also had a lot of red, blue, and yellow in her wardrobe.

"Um..." Clark struggled to find a believable excuse. He didn't think Oliver would appreciate him telling Lois that they had just had a long discussion about the secret identity he was keeping from her. "He was dropping off some stuff for Mom."

"Your mom's not home. And why didn't he just give it to me, anyway?"

"I think he wanted to talk to her in person. But like you said, she's not here, so... um... what brings you here at this time of night?"

It had been a weak deflection and he knew it. He also knew that the question would distract her and keep her occupied and away from thinking too hard about his poor excuses. Sometimes it unnerved him how well he knew her... usually right before she threw him for a loop.

"I made a breakthrough with the Kal-El investigation, and I needed to talk to someone."

"So you came here?" Clark asked, using confusion to mask the sinking feeling in his gut. Had she somehow managed to stumble upon his secret? He'd thought that her search for Green Arrow might distract her, but it was a fool's hope. He knew her too well to imagine that he could throw her off the trail if she really wanted to find out his secret. The only thing that had saved him so far was that she had never seemed to care if Clark Kent had secrets. Well, that was all shot to hell now...

Lois shrugged. "Well, I tried calling Lana but she was asleep, and Chloe's gone, and so's your mother, which brings me to right now."

Ah. So he wasn't being interrogated. He was just a last resort. "Nice to know I actually am on your list," he said in a voice full of good-natured sarcasm.

"Oh hush, Smallville!" she said, flopping down next to him on the sofa. Her careless movement landed her so close to him that he could feel her body heat. "You'd probably rank a whole lot higher if you weren't so down on my investigation all the time. What's your problem with this, anyway?"

"Nothing," he lied. "I just don't want you to get in over your head."

Lois raised her eyebrows. "When have I ever gotten myself into a situation I couldn't get myself out of?"

Without even thinking about it, he blurted out: "The Windgate."

Simultaneously they flushed bright red at the memory of Lois's brief career as a stripper.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to talk about that," Lois said.

"Actually, I believe we agreed that I wasn't going to talk about it to other people. There are no rules about me _finally_ having some ammunition against you."

For a moment, he was sure she was going to argue, but to his complete amazement, she simply shrugged and said, "I guess after all the crap I've given you over the years, I can let you have one thing."

"Wow, Lois Lane conceding defeat? Never thought I'd see the day!"

She narrowed her eyes. "It's not conceding defeat if it's just a pity concession, Smallville."

"Whatever you say, Lois." After a pause, he decided to guide the conversation back to its starting point. "So, what discovery was so big you had to rush right over here and tell me?" Was it just him, or did his voice sound a little nervous just skirting this close to his secret?

Lois's eyes lit up. "I was looking over Lana's research on the meteor shower, and she showed me something on one of the charts. There's something there that doesn't follow a normal trajectory. I never had much of a head for numbers, but I ran Lana's calculations again and unless she seriously misplaced a decimal point, there's no way that thing could have been a meteor. It moved way too slowly, for one thing, and its angle of decent is all wrong, for another."

"So you think-?"

"I think it was a ship. Maybe Kal-El's ship, if I'm reading the things Jor-El said right. For awhile the size threw me off. I mean, the thing was tiny. Way too small for an adult to fit in it, but then I thought it wouldn't be too small for a child."

Clark, listening to her, felt a chill in his gut, a similar feeling to when Lana had initially been coming so close to his secret. It mixed peculiarly with the stirring of reluctant pride he felt at her tenacity. Even as concerned as he was over Lois's forays into his world, he couldn't help but be impressed, yet again, by her ability to take apparently random bits of information and add them together to come up with a comprehensive picture. No one but her could follow her logic leaps, yet somehow she still managed to find the correct answer.

"What's your theory, then?" he asked, torn between a desire to conceal his secret and a compulsion to find out just what she knew.

Lois shrugged. "I'm not totally sure yet. I've got a few ideas, I guess, but I'm sure you don't care."

"Actually," Clark said, "I would love to hear it."

The eagerness with which she situated herself to begin her narration made it obvious how much she'd been hoping he'd let her talk. Clark marveled at her blatant enthusiasm. Then again, that was Lois all over. She practically dripped enthusiasm for everything she did, and it wasn't subtle.

"It's mostly conjecture, but from the bits and pieces coming together, I think I've figured a few things out. Actually, Zod gave me a lot of the keys."

"He did?"

"Yeah. You remember I told you that his master plan was to rebuild Krypton? Well, that seemed really weird to me at the time. I mean, why bother duplicating a planet when you could just conquer any planet you wanted and be done with it? But then I thought about what Lionel said to Lana about the meteor rocks when he was in that weird catatonic trance after the last meteor shower. _"Their home is their only poison."_ And the only thing I can guess from that is that these meteors that are the source of all the weirdness in this town are somehow pieces of Krypton. But if pieces of Krypton are here, that would mean something had happened to the planet, right? And so Zod's plan to recreate Krypton here suddenly makes a lot more sense. It's still batshit insane, but it makes sense."

"Jeez, take a breath!" Her accuracy boggled his mind. "That's a pretty cool theory. Kinda sci-fi, but growing up in Smallville, I guess you get used to that." It was the kind of half-truth deflection he hated, but found necessary. The urge to tell Lois how right he knew she was became overwhelming and his noncommital statement reminded him of all the reasons he couldn't.

Lois, however, was busy thinking along very different lines. "I think it's sad. Whatever happened was probably horrible. Zod didn't say much, but the few things that Lana told me, I'm guessing it was pretty cataclysmic. To think that an entire planet could just be... gone..." She shuddered. "If something ever happened to Earth, I can't even imagine. I mean, god! If Zod had had his way, something would have! Most of humanity wiped out, just a few survivors left... Kal-El of Krypton, wherever he is... I dunno, even if he did come here as a child, he must still feel so lonely, you know? I can't imagine how much it would hurt to be alone like that."

But the fact that she had even thought it was telling. Ever since he had begun learning about Krypton, his parents had tried to focus on the positive. They reminded him how happy they were that he, at least, had survived the destruction of his homeworld. But they could never have understood how painful and scary it had been to realize that, wherever he came from, he didn't even have the option to go back. He had never even given voice to the pain of losing a world and a people he hadn't had the chance to know. Yet somehow, Lois Lane, of all people, seemed to understand this instinctively.

"Lois, what is your fascination with this stuff, anyway? The weird and unexplained is usually Chloe's territory, isn't it?"

"You mean aside from the fact that I'm completely incapable of letting a mystery go?" she suggested with a touch of irony. More seriously, she continued, "Honestly? I'm not totally sure. It's a lot of things. It's partly a need to satisfy my own curiosity, and partly that I think I'd like to thank the guy for saving the entire planet's collective bacon, but mostly..." She chewed her lip thoughtfully before she explained, "Mostly, I think it's because I can't get my conversation with Jor-El out of my head. Those things he said just keep playing over and over."

"What things?"

"Well, his implication that I had influence with his son was interesting, because I'm pretty sure I'd remember meeting an all-powerful alien hero, but it was another comment he made that's really been sticking with me. He said that Kal-El's greatest weakness was his love for humanity."

A slow bubble of anger arose in the pit of Clark's stomach. Once again Jor-El proved that he had no right to judge him. Jor-El might see his affection for his adopted world as a weakness, but he would never, _never_ accept that caring for people was a bad thing.

Struggling to conceal the surge of frustration he felt, Clark worked for a neutral tone as he asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"_Everything_, Clark!" she said incredulously. "Think about it. Here's this guy, he's got these unbelievable powers. He's not from this world, and even if my random guesses are right and he's lived here for a long time, because of those powers, he doesn't have to do anything if he doesn't want to. He could be a conqueror, a tyrant, he could be even worse than Zod if he wanted to. _But he hasn't._ For some inexplicable reason, he likes this crazy, screwed-up, backwards species called humanity. When Zod was all about the genocide, he actually chose to protect us from the one person on the planet who might actually have enough power to be a real threat to him. Kal-El risked his life to save the world. I guess I just want to know somebody like that. The only people I can think of with that strength of character are... well, you and your family."

"I think that was a compliment?"

"Yes it was. Enjoy it, Smallville. I don't hand those out lightly."

"Believe me, I know."

He was utterly thrown by this perspective on his life. Seeing his life through Lois's eyes had always been an uncomfortable series of revelations, and he was unsurprised to discover that Kal-El's life was equally so. Clark was used to Chloe's subtle hero-worship, but this was something else again. This wonder in her eyes wasn't worshipful in the slightest. Lois examined his story and came away with profound respect tempered by the pragmatic approach she took to everything in her life. The nerves he usually felt when someone was dancing around the edges of his secret faded somewhat at her attitude. Lois had always had a way of making him feel comfortable in his own skin. He shouldn't be shocked to find it happening again.

Now unburdened by the fear of discovery, at least for the moment, he asked, "It doesn't bother you that Kal-El's not human?"

She shrugged. "I don't see why it should. So what if he's not originally from Earth? I'm not originally from the U.S. so it's not like I'm gonna go labeling him based on where he was born. Judge people based on their actions, not their DNA, Smallville."

"You're not originally from the States?"

"Not officially. Dad was stationed in West Germany from '84 to '88- this was before they made him a general- and I was born there. Lucy, too, but she was actually born on the base, so she was an American citizen right off the bat. I came early, so I ended up being born in a hospital in Munich while Mom was off the base one afternoon. Let's just say Dad had to jump through some serious legal hoops to get me an American birth certificate."

"So did mine," Clark blurted without thinking.

"What?"

Oh_ now_ he'd gone and put his foot in it. How was it that he always ended up being more honest with Lois than he meant to be? "It's nothing. It's just that my adoption was really complicated."

Lois's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I didn't know you were adopted."

He shrugged. "Then I guess it's a night of revelations, isn't it? I had no idea you were born in Germany. And," he added significantly, "I had no idea you're a reporter." He held up the copy of the Planet Oliver had brought by.

Lois let out a little breath of nervous laughter, but her smile was genuine. "You saw that, huh?"

"I did. What brought on the sudden interest in journalism?"

"It's just something I thought I'd try. Guess Chloe's enthusiasm is contagious. It almost didn't happen, though. The city editor was being a jerk and he all but told me I wasn't fit for tabloids, but Perry White, of all people, stepped in for me."

Now _that_ was a name Clark hadn't heard in awhile. "I know Perry White. What's he doing at the Planet?"

That focused, storytelling expression he had become so familiar with crossed Lois's face. "He'd been out of the journalism scene for a decade and then all of a sudden, he breaks the Lionel Luthor murder trial story on the front page of the Planet. I don't know how he managed it, but that story was in the morning edition not even nine hours after they hauled Lionel's sorry ass off to prison. Since then, Perry's been climbing the ranks. I asked around yesterday, and rumor has it he's due to be made editor of the international desk."

"Well, good for him," Clark said sincerely. "And good for you, too. You've only been a reporter for, what, three days? And you've already had two articles in Section A of the Daily Planet. Pretty impressive career so far."

Blushing at the unexpected praise, Lois said, "Yeah, I just hope it's not an early peak."

"Knowing you and your uncanny ability to involve yourself in things that are none of your business, I have no fear of that."

Lois's expression was annoyed but her eyes were smiling as she responded, "And we were having _such_ a nice talk, too." She rolled her eyes and they shared a smile. Then she got to her feet. "Well, Smallville, I should get going. It's late, and I have to drive to Topeka for your mom first thing tomorrow."

"Alright. Good night, Lois."

"See you around, Smallville."

Clark watched as she walked down the stairs, thinking to himself that the conversation that had just ended might have been one of the most honest talks they'd ever had. Neither of them were the type who opened up to other people easily, and their apparently unique abilities to get under each others' skins made it easier to limit their conversation to sarcastic bickering. On the rare occasions that they did open up and actually talk to each other, however, he always ended up discovering that Lois was surprisingly easy and fun to talk to.

Oliver's comment a few days previously about him having hidden feelings for Lois still bothered him. It was utterly ridiculous, of course, and he should have been able to dismiss it easily. So why was he still worrying over it? It wasn't like it was the first time someone had assumed something existed between him and Lois that wasn't there. For some reason or other it was a surprisingly common misconception, and he wasn't sure why this time should be any different.

He supposed that, viewed from the outside, their banter could be misconstrued as flirting. They _had_ developed their own private language with each other, comprised of shared history and glued together by sarcasm. But that didnt' make their talk flirting, because flirting would imply that he was attracted to Lois. Which he wasn't. At all.

Okay, that was a flat-out lie. He definitely did not have feelings for her, whatever Oliver seemed to think, but unfortunately it was impossible to deny that he was attracted to her. His poorly-concealed response to her impromptu lap dance last autumn had ended any chance he had for denying that he liked the way she looked.

Well, and what was wrong with that, anyway? He didn't have to be in love with her or something to be attracted to her. He was attracted to women all the time. He was a guy, after all, and Lois was beautiful. _Beautiful, sexy as hell, body that defies gravity_, his traitorous brain supplied.

So, yeah, maybe there was a little bit of attraction between them. But attraction plus friendship didn't equal secret hidden feelings. Oliver was _definitely_ seeing things where they didn't exist. He liked Lois's company (though he wouldn't ordinarily admit it to anyone except Lois herself... after all, they had agreed that their friendship was supposed to be a secret), and they had a unique relationship and, yes, he found her attractive. That was all. Completely.


	7. 6: Competitors

**A/N-** Unbelievably short chapter compared to the mega-monster that was last chapter, but what can you do? This was written while on the Cousin Shore on Prince Edward Island, which I thought was sickeningly appropriate.

This chapter picks up the morning after we last saw Clark and Lois in the barn.

* * *

><p>6. Competitors<p>

"_I just want to be living as I'm dying_  
><em>Just like everybody here<em>  
><em>Just want to know my little flicker of time is worthwhile.<em>"  
>-Vienna Teng<p>

* * *

><p>The little Italian cafe on Concord Lane, just six blocks from where the Daily Planet building rose up out of the city sprawl, was a godsend to many an overworked reporter. One young intern in particular was pretty sure it would be impossible to do her job without such a nearby source of the city's strongest coffee. On this particular afternoon, Chloe Sullivan was perched at one of the little tables on the sidewalk, sipping absentmindedly at her third espresso of the day and scowling at that morning's Daily Planet, currently opened to page two.<p>

It was in this attitude that her best friend discovered her.

"Chloe?" Lana asked, surprised to see the little blonde. "I'd have thought you'd be at the Planet right now."

Chloe moved her eyes briefly from the paper in her hands to Lana's face. "I was supposed to meet Jimmy for lunch, but he's running late. What about you? What is Lana Lang doing in the city?"

Lana shrugged. "Lex's high school reunion is coming up in the few weeks, and he wants me to have a new dress, so I'm shopping."

"Man, it is so weird to think of Lex Luthor doing something as mundane as going to a high school reunion," Chloe remarked.

A knowing smile crossed Lana's features. "He's just a person like anybody else," she gently reminded her friend.

"Yeah, I know," Chloe said absently. She held up the paper in her hands. "Have you seen this morning's edition?"

"No, I haven't," Lana replied, taking the vacant seat opposite her friend. "Why?"

By way of response, Chloe turned the paper so the page she was reading would be visible to Lana. A bold page two headline proclaimed: _Crimes Reveal New Twist in Green Arrow Mystery_. The byline beneath the story belonged to none other than Lois Lane.

Lana skimmed the article and found herself impressed. Lois was one hell of a writer. "Wow," she said.

"I know," Chloe griped. "I spent weeks paying my dues at the Planet before anyone would even consider running one of my articles in _Section D_! Lois waltzes in with a story she dashed off in an hour, and it all but makes the front page!"

"It sounds like you're jealous," Lana observed.

"Jealous? Of Lois?" Chloe scoffed automatically. After a moment, however, she sighed, slumping a little in her chair. "Maybe I am a little," she admitted. "I mean, how fair is it? I've wanted to be a reporter since I was give years old. I spent all of middle school and high school working my butt off to learn as much as I could and build up a portfolio. I took as many journalism classes as Met U would let me add to my schedule. I spent my summers interning at the Planet or writing for the Ledger. I spend hours choosing just the right words for my articles to make them perfect. But Lois? Lois can't spell to save her life. The closest she ever came to a journalism course was her Communications 101 lectures, most of which she skipped anyway. Her only previous experience is the month she spent writing for the Torch two years ago, and I all but had to bully her into it!"

Lana smiled at Chloe's tirade. She was familiar with her friend's rare but intense form of venting. "Yes, but don't you remember the response her articles got?" Lana reminded her gently. "It's like what my Aunt Nell used to tell me when I would get frustrated with my riding. Some people have the skill naturally. They achieve a lot very quickly because they have all that talent. Other people have to work longer and harder to get where they're at. You're going to be a great reporter, Chloe."

"Yeah, but Lois is gonna get there faster," Chloe mumbled, hating that she sounded so much like a petulant child.

"She has this way of making even the hard things make sense, and I think people appreciate that," Lana observed. "She doesn't dance around the edges of things, she just calls it like she sees it. It's a good trait for a reporter to have."

Chloe appeared taken aback by Lana's unexpected support of Lois's new endeavor. "I guess that's true," she agreed reluctantly.

"Actually, I admire that about her," Lana remarked. "She's not exactly subtle, but I think her way of looking at the world helps her see what's true."

Thinking of Lois's failure to see Kal-El even though he was right in front of her, Chloe snorted.

Lana didn't seem to notice as she added, "That's probably why I like spending time with her, actually."

Chloe looked stunned. "You and Lois?" she asked incredulously. "I can't picture that."

"Yeah, I guess after Dark Thursday we kind of bonded. You know, "we faced the apocalypse together, so let's agree to be better friends," and all that. And we have some goals in common, so there's that as well." Lana felt abruptly guilty for writing off her friendship with Lois on something so small. She had very few friends, and she didn't want to trivialize the ones that she did have. It compelled her to add, tentatively: "And I guess... it's been easier to talk to her than to you about some things lately."

"Lana! You know you can talk to me about anything!" Chloe protested.

"I know I can," Lana said, "But all these things that have been happening lately, with Clark and with Lex and all the feelings I've been trying to sort out... well, Lois has been really great about it. I know I can talk to you, but it's easier with her. There's less... baggage. She and Clark are friends, sort of, and I respect that, but... you're Clark's best friend, Chloe."

"You think I would let that come between us?" Her face was the picture of wounded feelings.

"Of course not!" Lana assured her. "You're my best friend, and I know you can be objective. I just don't want to put you in a position where you have to be."

Hurt as she was, Chloe couldn't help but acknowledging that Lana had a point. She had at times, especially lately, found it difficult to walk the tightrope of loyalty between her two dearest friends. "Thanks for the courtesy," she said weakly. "Just don't forget that I'm always here to talk if you ever need me."

Lana's face fell into a sweetly sympathetic smile. "How could I ever forget the girl who called me her sister?" she asked, calling back to the family tree Chloe had once made for a class assignment.

At that reminder that all the Lois Lanes in the world couldn't erase her history with people, Chloe immediately brightened. "Thanks," she said. "I guess sometimes it's hard to be Chloe Sullivan when people seem to like Lois Lane so much."

"Well, I don't know your cousin so well," a new voice interrupted, "But I'm sure a big fan of Chloe Sullivan."

Her surprised smile as she glanced over her shoulder was cut off as her boyfriend met her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Jimmy," she greeted when he released her. He sat between the two girls.

"Hey Bright Eyes," he said. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Chloe said, remembering her manners. "Jimmy, this is Lana: best friend, occasional roommate, and maker of the best coffee this side of Colombia. Lana, Jimmy Olsen."

Jimmy's smile was bright as he reached across the table to shake Lana's hand. "The legendary Lana Lang," he said. "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

"I'm surprised you haven't just checked the tabloids," Lana said dryly. "Ever since I started seeing Lex, it seems they haven't been able to help plastering my picture next to unflattering headlines."

"Eh, I never pay attention to what the yellow-bellies write," Jimmy replied. "I'd rather trust what Chloe has to say about you- you come up pretty often, you know."

"And you hardly come up at all," Lana countered. "Chloe's been unusually silent about the new man in her life." Leaning forward, she added with a secretive smile: "I think she wants to keep you all to herself."

Jimmy's smile, which had begun to flag at her first comment, flared up brightly at her second. "I hope so," he said, grinning at Chloe. "I was lucky enough to find her again after all these years and I'm not about to blow my second chance."

Chloe blushed and looked down at her lap to hide her smile.

"So, Lana," Jimmy added into the silence. "Do you have anywhere to be? You're welcome to join us for lunch if you'd like."

"Oh, I couldn't," Lana said. "Lex is expecting me back and I still have a dress to find before I head back to Smallville." She got to her feet. "It was nice meeting you, Jimmy."

"Likewise," Jimmy replied enthusiastically.

Turning to Chloe, she added, "I'll call you tomorrow. I'm desperately in need of a girl's night."

Chloe nodded her assent and, with a wave of her hand and a swish of her beautiful black locks, Lana was gone.

"Well, I like her," Jimmy said after a moment. "I can see why you two are so close." When he turned to look directly at his girlfriend, he saw her regarding him with a complex look on her face. "What?"

"You're not gonna blow your second chance?" she quoted back to him, her voice sounding both amused and baffled.

Jimmy smiled but his eyes were very serious. "Yeah. You know how around graduation time everybody gets all nostalgic and asks questions like "What's your biggest regret?" Well, my biggest regret was never calling you back after that summer. I dated a couple other girls after that, but there was never that click, you know? And once in awhile, I'd find myself thinking about Chloe Sullivan and wonder what was wrong with me that I never called her. Well, now I'm making up for that."

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakeable and, lost for words, Chloe simply kissed him so she wouldn't have to say anything. She was just beginning to realize that Jimmy really cared for her, and she hoped she wouldn't let him down.

She wondered what Jimmy would say if he knew that only a few hours before they reconnected, she had been kissing Clark.

* * *

><p>In Oliver Queen's penthouse, behind the clock-face facade that made up one wall of the open-plan apartment, two monitor screens glowed, casting a greenish pall over the intent face of the young billionaire. The first showed a map of Europe with a pulsing red dot marked somewhere on the isle of Crete; the second displayed a map of South America, the red dot indicating a location on the Tierra del Fuego. Oliver tapped impatiently at the keyboard, glancing between the two screens frequently.<p>

Just as his impatience was reaching an all-time high, one screen flickered and the map of Europe vanished, replaced by the image of a blond man. His otherwise handsome face was marred somewhat by the rising bruises around his left eye, which was quickly swelling shut.

"Aquaman checking in," he said.

"Hood checking in," Oliver replied.

"Man, we gotta change your code name, bro," Arthur Curry remarked. "The Emerald Hood is so dorky, my _dad_ would never touch it."

Abruptly, a second face appeared on A.C.'s monitor, startlingly close to the webcam. "Hey, Boss-man!" Bart Allen, code name Impulse, said with a cheerful grin. "Aquadude's right. The Hood thing's gotta go. But I hear your girlfriend gave you a pretty sweet alternative..."

"Impulse, can I ask why you're in Crete?" Oliver asked curtly.

"Sorry, Boss-man," Bart replied cheekily. Two heartbeats later, the map of South America vanished and Bart appeared in its place. "Impulse, checking in. And speaking of bad code names..."

"Cool it with the code names," Oliver admonished. "And cut the Boss-man stuff. This is a team, and we're all equal partners here."

"Sure thing, Boss-man," A.C. said with a smirk.

Oliver rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. "Alright guys, status reports. Bart, what's the deal?"

"Got a lead on a possible bionic man, sleeping rough in Chicago."

"Send me the details, I'll check it out," Oliver said.

"Other than that, not much. I did run into a serious Brazilian fox with a thing for playing with fire, but she wasn't interested in joining up."

"Man, what is it with the chicks not wanting to play for the team?" A.C. asked.

"Well with your respectful and welcoming attitude, I can't imagine why they aren't lining the streets to sign on," Oliver remarked sarcastically.

A smug smirk on his face, Bart piped up, "He's just sorry he got beat up by a girl."

"I assume that explains the shiner, then?" Oliver asked.

A.C. looked chagrined as he explained, "I was following Bart's lead on a possible metahuman in the Mediterranean. Followed the trail from Greece to an island that, funnily enough, isn't on any maps. Turns out this girl I was tracking is some kind of warrior princess."

"And you're an Atlantean prince with superpowers," Oliver pointed out. "So?"

"Oh, I didn't mention she was the strongest person I've ever met, bar one?" A.C. griped. "Oh, and she can fly."

Oliver blinked in surprise. "Flying, huh? That's a new one. I take it she wasn't interested in our offer either?"

"I believe her exact words were: "An Amazon will serve no man.""

"Guess that's a no on the princess," Bart said. "So how about you, _Green Arrow_? You find anything in Metropolis besides a smokin' new ladyfriend?"

"Actually, yeah," Oliver said. "I came across this guy kind of by accident, but I may have found someone who could become a real asset to us."

"Who is he?" asked A.C.

"When he's not playing plebian, he goes by the name Kal-El. Rumor has it he's extraterrestrial."

"What, like little green men?" Bart asked.

Oliver shrugged. "He looks pretty human, but as our amphibious friend here proves, that doesn't mean much."

"As long as he doesn't have a tentacle face or something, I'm game," Bart said. "When do we get to meet him?"

"I'm not sure yet. He's a little reluctant to sign on, but I'll keep working on him. We could use a powerhouse like this guy."

"How do we know we can trust him?" A.C. asked.

"Aside from the fact that he's an oversized boy scout?" Oliver suggested with a wry twist to his mouth. "I don't know. It's just a feeling. You'd have to meet him to get it but there's just something about him. It's funny, you know, he's still a kid. Maybe a year or two older than Bart, tops, but he's still... impressive. Like even though he could probably pummel the three of us one-handed, he's gentle. I dunno, maybe that's what they mean when they say 'old soul.'"

"I knew somebody like that once," Bart mused. "You know, I outta look Clark up. He'd be a pretty good guy to have on the team."

"Wait, Clark? As in Kent?" Oliver asked.

"That's him, yeah."

"That's who I'm talking about."

"Wait, you guys know Kent, too?" A.C. chimed in.

"Yeah, he got me out of a real jam with Luthor a few years ago."

"Same here. Lex had me high and dry last summer, but Kent got me out of it. I've been thinking we should recruit him for awhile now, but he seemed so reluctant to get out of Podunk that I never suggested it."

Bart whistled low. "I knew ol' Stretch had a serious arsenal tucked away under all the plaid, but I didn't know he was of the E.T. persuasion."

"Yeah, he never mentioned anything like that to me either," A.C. said. "How'd you get it out of him?"

Oliver shrugged. "I have my sources. Clark wouldn't confirm anything, which makes me more sure that it's true."

"You want me to talk to him about suiting up?" Bart asked. "He'd probably take it better coming from me."

Oliver shook his head. "Nah, I've got Kent's number. _And_ I've got your new assignments..."

* * *

><p>His conversation with Lois from the evening before was still echoing in Clark's ears the next afternoon. More unnerving, though, was how some of the things she had said were still resonating in his hear. Lois's perspective on Kal-El, the last orphan of Krypton, was one he hadn't encountered before, and quite against his will, it was changing his view of his heritage. Reluctantly, he was beginning to see it as less of a curse to be feared and rejected, and more a source of interest. The curiosity he thought had been killed, driven out by fear the moment he had read the ominous message contained within his ship, was beginning to awaken once more. Meeting Raya in the Phantom Zone had started the process, and Lois's words in sympathy for a destroyed world were encouraging the feeling.<p>

It wasn't the first time she had done something like this, either. Her description of the Fortress just a few scant months earlier had made him feel new respect for his little piece of lost Krypton on Earth, just in time to regret what he had foolishly thrown away without ever appreciating what he had.

But it wasn't his conflicted and constantly shifting feelings regarding Jor-El and Krypton that had driven him to the Talon apartment that evening. That wasn't something he talked even to Chloe about. No, it was something else that had him fleeing to his best friend for advice.

The night before, reassured by the glow of Lois's actual presence, he hadn't been overly concerned by her proximity to his secret. In the cold light of day, however, the warmth she left in his chest had faded and he was left to worry over the other parts of their conversation. He had no idea what else Lois's investigations might unearth, but it unnerved him. All day he had fretted over it, and he couldn't take stewing on his own any longer.

Chloe opened the door on his first knock. "Hey," she said distractedly. "Come on in."

"Wow, the place is a disaster zone," Clark remarked, entering the apartment.

"Lois," Chloe explained. "She's been trying to cook again."

Clark winced, remembering the spare handful of occasions when Lois had tried her mettle in the kitchen. "Why?" he asked plaintively.

"I'm not completely sure. She ran in here right after I got home, mumbled something about Thanksgiving, which makes no sense because that's weeks away, and started throwing flour in a spring-form pan."

"She's practicing," Clark said immediately. "Mom must have extended her Thanksgiving dinner invitation. Lois tries to help by making pie."

"God help us," Chloe said weakly.

"She's not here now, is she?"

"No, she realized she didn't have any apples for her apple pie-" Chloe said, with a pointed look at the smouldering black crust on the island that was turning to ash as they watched, "-and she ran out of here to go get some. Which meant I got to be the one to find out she had left an empty pie crust in the oven."

Clark grimaced. "Well, regardless of whether she can cook or not, she's getting way too close to my secret."

"How close are we talking?"

"Between Jor-El's meddling, Lana's research, and Lois's superhuman ability to add two and two and somehow come up with the last digit of pi? _Close_," Clark said. "She's already figured out that Kal-El's a refugee from a destroyed planet who came to Earth as a child, and who knows what else! She even knows about the meteor rocks! One kryptonite exposure with her around, and my cover's blown."

"You do know how weird you sound when you refer to Kal-El in the third person, right?" He could see the wheels in Chloe's head turning faster than even he could run. "Okay," she said. "Okay. This is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna handle Lois-"

"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"

"Sure. I have twenty years' experience of navigating the treacherous waters around Cape Lois. _You_, meanwhile, are going to focus on figuring out how many Zoners escaped when you clicked your heels back to Kansas."

"I've been trying," Clark said, "but with the Fortress dead, the only way I can think of to locate them is by manually searching the entire planet. I'm hoping not to have to resort to that."

Chloe made a sympathetic grimace in his direction. "But to stop superpowered alien criminals from blowing up the planet, you do what you gotta do, huh?"

"Something like that," Clark sighed.

"Something like what?" Lois asked, pushing through the doorway just in time to catch his last comment.

"Just, um... stuff?" Clark fumbled.

"_Yeah_," Lois said, drawing out the word sarcastically. "Thanks for clearing that up, Smallville." She shot a glance at Chloe, who just shrugged.

The warmth in Clark's chest was back, and he suddenly wondered if the day he'd spent worrying had been worth it. This was _Lois_, after all. For all that she was the most powerful personality on Planet Earth, she was also pretty much the most harmless person he'd ever met.

Ignorant to Clark's confusion regarding herself, Lois moved past the two friends, bag of apples in hand. She spied the remnants of what might once have been a respectable pie crust on the island. "My pie!" she cried sadly.

Across the room, Clark and Chloe exchanged amused glances.

* * *

><p>Milo Graethe was reviewing SafeTech's latest acquisition account when the Asian fellow with the dragon tattoo on his face, whom Milo had hired for grunt work, entered his office without so much as a courtesy knock. Well, Milo supposed, that was what you got when you hired cheap and dirty.<p>

"Yes?" he asked curtly.

"Report on the Lane operation, Mister Graethe."

"Go on."

"I planted the tracker on her car last night, and me and Jim bugged the apartment this morning."

"What specs?"

"A button camera on the mantle, and two B-class mikes, one in the bedroom and one in the living room."

"Voice activated, very nice," Milo said approvingly. "Have you tested them yet?"

"Yes, Mister Graethe. Everything's loud and clear."

"Have we got anything of interest on record yet?"

The tattoo on the man's cheek contorted and appeared to writhe unpleasantly as he screwed up his face in a grimace. "Not really," he said. "Just a lot of Lane's cousin talking to some guy."

"Archive it," Milo ordered. "The cousin's been on Mr. Luthor's bad side more than once. Keep records of all her conversations, in case Mr. Luthor would like the archives of Miss Sullivan's less public interactions."

"Blackmail material," Dragon-Face observed. "Smart thinking, Mister Graethe."

"I didn't become the best in the business by playing it safe," Milo said coolly. "Now get back to work, kid."

"Sure thing, Mister Graethe."

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** Reviews are not mandatory, but deeply appreciated. :)


	8. 7: Secrets & the Hazards of Keeping Them

**A/N-** And now I present unto you my reworking of Reunion. I don't know about the rest of you, but personally? Not so crazy about that episode. However, the events that transpire here? Super, super important to the rest of Shatterpoint, particularly vis-a-vis our favorite Evil Power Couple. So keep your eyes open: big things are coming down the pipeline, and some of them start right here. But guh, it was a painful chapter to write. In the "I want to rip my brains out from boredom" kind of way.

Also, if I have any fellow Whovians reading this... this chapter contains a *wink wink, nudge nudge* tidbit. Blink and you'll miss it, but cookies to anybody who catches it.

* * *

><p>7. Secrets and the Hazards of Keeping Them<p>

"_So we laugh, and we smile_  
><em>And we play our games of sweet denial<em>  
><em>But don't tell me we're forgiven.<em>"  
>-The Calling<p>

* * *

><p>Lana stood at the French doors that opened onto the balcony outside her bedroom, her arms wrapped around herself tightly. Despite the contemporary updates Lex had installed after he moved in six years prior, the Luthor ancestral home was drafty with the deepening of autumn, and the silks and fine linen Lana could now afford to wear, thought beautiful, didn't do much to warm her.<p>

The hands that descended upon her shoulders and the lips that laid hot, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder and neck, however, were more than warmth enough.

"Lex," she murmured. Even before they had become involved, she had always had a sense that Lex knew her better than anyone, understood her in a way no one ever had. That awareness had translated to their amorous encounters, as well.

She turned into his arms and captured his teasing mouth with her own, kissing him passionately. He responded in kind, and her tongue darted out to play with his.

Lex groaned softly into her mouth, and reluctantly pulled away. "We have to leave in an hour," he informed her. "I'm surprised you're not already dressing."

"I didn't realize it had gotten so late already," she replied.

A quick glance at the clock on the dresser told her that it was already one in the afternoon. It was the day of Lex's class reunion. Lana was both nervous and eager to attend on his arm. Nervous, because she hadn't always received the best reception as Lex Luthor's girlfriend and wasn't sure how to handle facing people who had known Lex during his tumultuous youth; eager because a part of her had always dreamed of this lifestyle, where men wore three-piece suits to their class reunions and it wasn't real champaign if it didn't have a four-figure price tag.

"The car will be around to pick us up at two so that we can be in Metropolis before five," Lex said.

Lana smiled. "Well then, I had better be getting ready."

With another brief kiss on her lips, Lex released her and made for the hallway. He paused just at the door and, glancing back to look at her said, "Lana, the two weeks are up."

She was all too aware of that fact. Her close observation of Dr. Grohl's work had put her schedule at odds with Chloe's, meaning that the intended girls' night had never happened. "I know," she replied.

"Do you still want to destroy the black box?" he asked.

The faintest hesitation on her part was followed by a nod. "Yes, Lex. Dr. Grohl's work is fantastic and I trust him to be discreet, but what I don't trust is what the rest of the world might do with the discoveries he could make, when that knowledge becomes public."

Lex's face gave no hint of what he was thinking, but he said, "We'll destroy it tomorrow, then." And then he was gone.

As she dressed, Lana reflected on her relationship with Lex. It was a strange one. Sometimes they could be so cold with each other, but their minds worked the same way and the passion between them was explosive. Most importantly to Lana, Lex treated her like an equal.

When Clark had still loved her, she had always felt that he viewed her as precious, something to be cherished and protected, but never put under too much pressure for fear she would shatter. Once upon a time, she had thought that Clark was the only person who didn't see her as the poor little orphan girl, because he was adopted, too. She'd been as wrong about that as she had been about so many other things concerning Clark. He wanted her to be the naive girl he first knew, and he'd never understood just how powerful she really could be. For all his protestations that she was strong, it was clear to her now that he had only wanted her to be strong up to a point; he had needed her to be a little helpless so that he could keep saving her, so that she would need him like he used to need her.

What he'd never grasped was that she _had_ needed him, in the same way he had needed her, whether he could swoop in to rescue her or not. He'd never seemed to believe that the love that beat in her heart only for him was real. He'd wanted her to be Lana Lang, homecoming queen, girl next door, coveted by Greg Arkin and Jake Pollen and a host of other dangerous freaks he had to rescue her from. And she had tried to be that girl. She had tried to be gentle and demure, the perfect future farmer's wife, just as she had tried to be Whitney's rock and the quirky, artsy, carefree girl Jason had fallen for. But the truth was that Lana Lang had more rough edges than that.

Still, whether she could be who he wanted her to be or not, she had loved him truly. In falling out of love with her, he had betrayed all the love she had given him, and that was something that had never happened to her before. She had lost so many people over the years, but no one had ever taken love away from her like that.

Lana was not naive enough to believe that her heartbreak over Clark had nothing to do with beginning a relationship with Lex. Her need to fill the void Clark's heart had once filled had driven her in Lex's direction, but contrary to what she knew Chloe believed, that wasn't all there was to it. This relationship had been a long time coming. Right from the beginning, Lex had not only recognized the strength even she hadn't known she possessed, he had encouraged and shaped it. He had challenged her, he had taught her not only to fight for what she wanted, but to fight cleverly and deal from a position of power rather than fear. When she was weak and afraid in a place that was once a safe haven, Lex had given her the tools to rescue herself, rather than expecting her to wait for him to rescue her. That pattern had continued throughout their friendship, and it seemed to be holding true now that they were together.

She thought- she was pretty sure, anyway- that this relationship could really work. Their temperaments were well-suited to each other. They were honest with each other. Lex had a darker side to his nature, she knew that, but as he himself had said many times, she felt perfectly capable of helping him restrain that part of himself.

Their lovemaking was creative, passionate and intense. It had never been like that with Clark. She had always enjoyed being intimate with him, but she had always sensed that he was holding back. There had been passion in him she could just feel bubbling beneath the surface, but she had never been able to make him lose control and give reign to it. Even in her inexperience, she had been able to tell that, as good as it was, it could have been better if he had just trusted himself, trusted them.

Lex, however, always proved himself single-mindedly devoted to their mutual fulfillment. He made her feel things that she never had with Clark. It could have been simply that Lex was the more experienced lover, but Lana didn't think so. It wasn't a matter of experience; it was _them_. At times she hated it, because a sliver of her heart was still crying out that if she just waited long enough, Clark would realize he was meant to love her after all. For the most part, though, she was determined to put Clark in her past and embrace her new relationship.

Sliding her ivory silk slip over her body, Lana smiled in satisfaction. Yes, she and Lex seemed to be just right for each other.

* * *

><p>Oliver had just put away his newly completed prototype of his new electromagnetic arrow and picked up the jacket he intended to wear to that evening's class reunion when a whooshing sound announced a new presence in the apartment. He at first thought it was Bart, but saw someone older and rather a lot taller when he turned around. "Clark," he said dryly. "I was wondering if my security system would keep someone like you out."<p>

"Looks like you need an upgrade," said Clark, and Oliver would have found the remark threatening if there hadn't been a small upward twitch at the corner of his new acquaintance's lips.

"Or you need to learn how to knock," he replied, also smiling slightly. "It's okay. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need to talk to you about the Queen Industries satellite grid," Clark replied.

Oliver felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. _That_ was the last thing he'd been expecting. "What about it?"

"My friend Chloe, she's doing a story on the global effects of Dark Thursday," Clark said, and Oliver noted that he was tapping the fingers of his right hand nervously against his side. "She needs satellite images from that day, but none of them were working."

"Except mine," he said, holding off on calling Clark's obvious tell for the moment.

The farmer's son frowned thoughtfully. "Now, how'd you manage that?" he asked, and Oliver could hear traces of suspicion in his voice.

"It's a trade secret," Oliver dismissed. "Why don't you tell me why you _really_ want access to my satellites?"

He had been right. He could tell immediately from the look of surprise that flashed over the younger man's face. "I... what? No, Chloe just-"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap, Kent. Maybe your friend is working on a story, but guys like us don't come looking for satellite images of global disasters to help our reporter buddies write better news. I know the look of somebody trying to track the bad guys when I see it, so fess up. What are you looking for?"

Clark hesitated for a moment. "That's on a need-to-know basis," he said finally. It would have been impressive, too... well, actually, it _was_ impressive, but it would have been a lot more so if the obvious fact that it was mostly false bravado. Oliver restrained a smirk. When he ditched his extreme country-boy naivete, Kent would be a force to be reckoned with. For now, however, he was all too easy to read.

He shrugged. "Fine. You don't trust me, that's your prerogative. Tell you what. I will give you all the access you need to my satellite grid... _if_ you'll accept my offer."

"What offer?"

Oliver smiled, unable to avoid the surge of pride he felt every time he thought of his small but formidable new project, now augmented by the recent addition of Victor Stone, human cyborg. "I'm putting together a team."

"A team," Clark repeated curiously.

He nodded. "Yeah, a couple of guys like us- well, more like you with the flashy powers and all than like me, but you get what I mean. People who want to help make a difference in the world. You help us out, I'll give you what you need."

Clark's eyebrows rose. "I think I prefer to work alone."

"Oh, you'll fit right in," Oliver replied.

The other man sighed. "Look, it's really important that I get those images, Oliver. A lot of peoples' safety could depend on it."

Oliver nodded. "I believe you. I really do. But we could really use somebody like you on the team. Look at it this way: we help each other out. I help you do whatever it is you're up to, and you help us stop the bad guys. Everybody wins."

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, well, it's been my experience that the phrase 'everybody wins' is usually followed by innocent people losing."

"For a naive country boy, you sure are jaded," Oliver remarked. "We aren't out to hurt people, Clark. We're trying to help."

Clark nodded, and Oliver was pretty sure the younger man believed him. "Thanks, but I think I'll stay out of it. I made a real mess a few months ago, and it's up to me to clean it up."

Before he could reply, the grated door of the elevator slid open and a familiar voice called out, "Well, Cinderella has arrived ready to defend her man from the hordes of envious mere millionaires at the ball!"

Oliver turned and was struck dumb by the sight that greeted him. Lois stood in the entrance, dressed in a floor-length gown of a deep navy, almost black, that perfectly accentuated her generous curves. A strand of pearls, which he knew for a fact was the only fine jewelry she owned, handed down from her mother, graced her throat. She was a vision.

"Aren't you ready yet?" she asked, surprised.

"I was just talking to-" He turned around to indicate Clark, but the other man had vanished. "-Myself, apparently."

Lois's face was skeptical. "Right," she said, a bemused smile on her lips. "Well, come on, Prince Charming. We've got a party to endure."

* * *

><p>As she glanced around her at the regiment of well-bred gentlemen in their tails and young women a few years older than herself in dresses designed to accentuate their expensive "enhancements," Lois shuddered. She was perfectly capable of enjoying the ballet or the opera, or being well-behaved at some function, but when it came to the kind of people she had encountered thus far at the Excelsior Class of '99 reunion, her tolerance was running extremely low. One of the qualities Lois valued most highly was genuineness, and Oliver's old classmates? Not the poster children for being true to yourself. It was one of the things that she had noticed immediately about Ollie, something that set him apart from other members of his tax bracket: he wasn't wearing some kind of society mask. He was who he was and damn his peers' expectations.<p>

Lois herself was the same, and it was all but physically painful to have to repress her personality enough to avoid making the kind of faux pas to which she was unfortunately prone. Her bluntness might be endearing to Mrs. Kent and apparently Oliver, but a group of well-dressed strangers? Not so much.

It was with great relief, therefore, that she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. "Lana!" she called, "Lana! Your billionaire drag you to this thing, too?"

The pretty brunette smiled at her. "Yes. We're a little late, I'm afraid, but we're here."

Lex meanwhile, had a different preoccupation than their tardiness. "Oliver's here?"

Ignoring him, Lois addressed Lana, someone with whom she could finally actually _talk_ instead of making stifling chit-chat about the good old days and the quality of the hors d'ouevres and the stock market, or whatever. "I don't get it. You put a bunch of pubescent boys in silly jackets and cram them full of pomp and circumstance. You're just asking for a round of "Lord of the Flies.""

Lana giggled.

"I don't know," Oliver said, arriving at just that moment with the old friends he had been speaking to in tow. "We all turned out all right. Didn't we?"

To Lois's confusion, Lex's eyes flared briefly with a look Lois could only describe as hatred. "I can only speak for myself," he said coldly. "Geoffrey, Alden... how's business?"

A tow-headed young man, the one Lex had addressed as Alden, replied: "Not as good as you, but, hey." He smirked in a singularly unpleasant manner and Lois could smell scotch on his breath.

Sensing something unspoken and unpleasant brewing between the four young men, Lois tried to step into her rusty but previously successful role as diplomat. "And you guys were all friends?" she asked politely.

Lex's eyes were all but burning through Oliver's skull. "Something like that," he remarked dryly.

"Man, 10 years later and the gang's all here," observed Oliver's other friend, a handsome man by the name of Geoffrey.

Taking another swig from the crystal tumbler he carried, Alden muttered, "Except for Duncan."

"Who's Duncan?" Lana asked, taking the words right out of Lois's mouth, and leaving her free to observe the pall that fell over the faces of the three other men. Her curiosity was instantly piqued.

"Know what? Maybe you ought to lay off, huh?" Oliver suggested. Lois was surprised to hear his tone. He sounded very intense, and his voice was laced with barely-repressed anger.

"What?" Alden shot back. "Like you weren't all thinking about-"

"Alden," Oliver said forcefully.

Geoffrey apparently agreed. "C'mon, Alden," he said pleadingly.

Lex, Lois noticed, was curiously silent.

"Yeah, whatever," he said, shrugging Oliver's hand off his shoulder with an angry twitch. "Good to see you, Lex. You did all right for yourself." It couldn't have been more insincere-sounding if he had been mooning the guy while he said it, Lois thought.

Lois and Lana glanced at each other, locking eyes and exchanging resigned shrugs. Who knew what sort of mutual, pint-sized skeletons could be in the mutual closet of high school between four trust fund kids?

Alden, meanwhile, had strode away to stand on the grand, scarlet-carpeted staircase leading up to Excelsior's principle building. Lois glanced at him curiously, wondering at his dour attitude, and she noticed him take another slug on his scotch glass, at exactly the moment a huge piece of masonry toppled from the facade of the building and landed with a resounding crack just inches from him, showering his well-tailored suit with speckles of plaster dust.

"Oh my God!" Lana gasped.

"You all right?" Oliver called up to him.

"Just missed me," Alden replied. "Must be my lucky day."

Seconds later, the bronze sword carried by the statue that topped the building came loose and dropped from on high, spearing Alden straight through his body, cleaving him nearly in two. Blood spattered down and rained upon the shiny pate of Lex Luthor and splashing the angelic face of the woman who stood at his side.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Lois, Oliver, and Geoffrey exited the police precinct. Lex, Lana, and a few other witnesses had already been interviewed and sent home by the time the officers heading up the investigation got around to the three of them, and darkness had already fallen outside. Lois was strongly tempted so suggest that they all get a drink, but decided that might not be the best idea right now. Besides, she had sworn off tequila as a coping mechanism over a year ago, and she wasn't going to revert to her teenage years over the murder of a man she'd barely known. She wondered idly if coffee would have a similar effect to alcohol in situations like this. Chloe seemed to think so.<p>

Geoffrey was speaking, morose fascinations playing across his expression. "Seeing somebody you laughed with, shared so many good times together - seeing him laid out on the table like that..."

Lois shuddered inwardly, imagining Chloe or Lana in Alden's position and empathizing with the two men. "At least they say he didn't suffer," she said in an attempt at consolation.

"Yeah. But I'm guessing it didn't tickle, either," Geoffrey muttered darkly.

Oliver's expression was grim, and she could sense the self-recrimination in his attitude as he said, "Alden called me a month ago. He said he wanted to go out for a drink, and I... told him I was busy. I said I'd catch up with him later."

"You couldn't have known something like this was gonna happen," Lois reassured him.

Geoffrey nodded, flashing her an approximation of a smile. "All the more reason to live for today. Keep in touch with old friends?"

Glad to see the mood of the little group was improving, at least a little, Lois encouraged, "Why don't you all get together while you're here? What about that Duncan guy? Does he live in Metropolis?"

It had obviously been the wrong thing to say. Both Geoffrey and Oliver had been losing some of the tension that had been riding on them since the moment of Alden's tragic accident, but the moment Duncan's name slipped from her lips, both of them lost a little color in their faces.

After a long, tense second, Oliver muttered, "Not anymore."

"I actually have to be getting back to Gotham, anyway," Geoffrey said with a sigh. "Got a great gal there, Ollie. Don't screw it up." With a dark little laugh, he headed for the car that was waiting for him at the end of the street.

"Smart guy," Lois said, teasing gently. "You should listen to him."

A reluctant smile crept across Oliver's face. "I'm all ears," he replied. He put his arm around her and they headed to the other end of the street where Oliver's Audi was parked.

From behind them, the heat and concussive roar of an explosion sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Lois rolled onto her back, ignoring her scraped elbows and the inevitable damage to her gown, and saw that Geoffrey's car had gone up in flames. Undoubtedly both Geoffrey and his driver had been killed instantly.

Lois glanced at Oliver, who was staring at the searing gouts of fire shooting up from the wreck of the Rolls Royce with a grim look on his face.

* * *

><p>"Oliver wouldn't budge on the satellite idea," Clark told Chloe over coffee the next morning.<p>

She groaned and dropped her forehead into her hands. "Great," she muttered. "What did you tell him?"

"I tried to say it was for a story you were writing, but he guessed I was lying and I wasn't exactly in the mood to explain the whole Phantom Zone, escaped alien prisoners thing."

Chloe nodded. "No duh," she muttered, sounding shockingly like her cousin for a moment.

Clark shrugged. "I tried to get him to understand that it was important, but he wouldn't give me access."

She pursed her lips. "You've gotta keep trying," she said. "Couldn't you appeal to his better nature? I thought Oliver Queen was supposed to be the philanthropic type."

He shrugged again. This was going to be tricky to negotiate. He wouldn't reveal to Chloe that Oliver was secretly the Green Arrow, and without that rather important piece of information, he couldn't really explain the circumstances surrounding Oliver's rejection.

"He made me an offer I had to refuse," he said, and suddenly felt as if he were in a film-noir gangster movie.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"

Clark waved a hand in what he hoped was a vaguely casual manner and said, "Don't worry about it. I'll keep trying."

She looked skeptical, but she let it go.

* * *

><p>Dr. Grohl's laboratory was on the site of what once used to be Cadmus Labs. Most of the small building was devoted to his research, but the sub-basement, left untouched since Luthorcorp acquired Cadmus as part of a hostile takeover of Hardwick Industries, was designed with the specific intention of becoming a disposal ground for hazardous materials. Walls and ceiling were made of concrete thirty feet thick and layered with lead. A sealed vault near the rear of the space contained barrels full of toxic substances, many of them destined to remain locked behind leaded glass and a hermetically sealed door until their radioactive decay was complete.<p>

Most of the room, however, was dedicated to the massive, stories-high blast furnace. The squat, ugly hulk of metal was designed with only one purpose in mind: to incinerate down to finest ash whatever was inside. Kept burning at all times, the furnace's interior reached temperatures of up to three thousand degrees Farenheit, higher even than the great ovens used by glassblowers. The heat pouring off its surface was enough to make the dim interior of that underground wasteland almost intolerable.

The room had once been lit by a multitude of halogen tubes, but most of them hadn't been replaced in some time, and only four were left glowing high above, with two more flickering feebly at random intervals. Most of the light, therefore, came from the single reinforced window on the door of the furnace, casting an eerie orange glow over the room.

The great door of the furnace could only be reached by a series of narrow metal catwalks, suspended twenty-five feet above the concrete floor. It was on these precarious walkways that Lex approached Dr. Grohl, who was sweating profusely behind his starched collar.

"I assume you've completed your work, Dr. Grohl?" he asked.

"Hardly," the scientist replied. "There's easily a decade's worth of work to be done with the artifact."

Lex quirked an eyebrow. "You know perfectly well what I'm asking, Doctor. Have you completed the data extraction relevant to Project Ares?"

The bespectacled man nodded stiffly. "The damage to the disk nearly obliterated certain data caches, but the information you were specifically hoping to find was unaffected. I confess, Mr. Luthor, we had a great deal of difficulty decoding it."

"May I ask why?" Lex asked, a bite to his voice.

"Mr. Luthor, you forget that this artifact is alien in origin. More bafflingly, many of the data caches we recovered were in languages different again from the symbols inscribed on the disk. The data in question was in one such language. It was only this morning that my team found a mathematical key allowing for translation, and I doubt we'd even have discovered that were it not for my background with the U.N.I.T. international task force."

Lex's expression remained neutral. "I trust that whatever you recovered has remained for your eyes only?"

Dr. Grohl nodded.

"And the results?"

"I think you'll be pleased. Based on preliminary examination, the data we retrieved should complement Dr. Dinsmore's research." Dr. Grohl's perennially expressionless face did not alter in the slightest as he asked, "Mr. Luthor, are you sure you want to destroy the artifact? Risks aside, the benefit to humanity could be incalculable."

"I don't recall asking your opinion, Doctor," Lex replied. "For the first time in a long time, there's something in my life more important than searching for answers. I have no intention of jeopardizing that, not even for the sake of this little black Pandora's Box."

Dr. Grohl made to reply, but before he could speak, the creak of the heavy steel door at the end of the walkway made both men pause and look around. Lana descended the rickety iron steps and crossed the creaking catwalk to join the two men in the middle of the platform.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I got a little lost finding the building." Glancing around her curiously, she wiped at the sweat that had sprung up almost instantly on her forehead. "It's hot," she remarked with a little laugh.

"Which is precisely why we're here," Lex said. "Dr. Grohl, if you'd care to explain?"

Dr. Grohl adjusted his glasses in accordance with his nervous habit. "Uh, yes," he muttered. "You will have noted, Miss Lang, that the artifact was damaged when it was recovered. I've since determined that the missing piece was, in fact, burned away."

"Burned?" Lana asked.

He nodded. "By temperatures well in excess of two thousand degrees."

Thinking of Kal-El and the heat beams Kryptonians could fire from their eyes, Lana had an inkling she knew how the damage might have occurred.

"You will appreciate, therefore, that nothing short of a similar event is likely to be able to destroy the artifact."

Lana fixed him with her dark-eyed gaze. "So we're going to burn it."

Dr. Grohl swallowed hard. It was plain that although he was standing in a room with Lex Luthor, it was Lana who made him nervous and commanded his respect. "In essence, Miss Lang... yes."

"That's why I asked you to come here today, Lana. I wanted you to witness this, and see that I'm true to my word. There are no secrets between us," Lex promised.

Lana smiled. "Thank you, Lex."

Turning to Dr. Grohl, Lex commanded, "Let's begin."

The good doctor pressed a button on a small console attached to the railing. A loud klaxon sounded, alerting them needlessly to the opening door below them. As the steel plate slid back, the already uncomfortable temperature increased dramatically. Brilliant light poured from the opening, heat shimmering dangerously against a backdrop of gold and white too bright to look at directly.

Unbeknownst to the three on the catwalk, the bolts that held their section of the grated walkway in place quietly unscrewed themselves and dropped, one by one, to the floor below.

Dr. Grohl opened the small black case he had been carrying, and presented the pair with the artifact they had been discussing.

Lex turned to Lana. "Care to do the honors?" he offered, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to do it if responsibility were left in his hands.

Lana nodded and cautiously lifted the deceptively light object from its nest in the case with both hands. Doing her best to ignore the heat that sent sweat pouring down her face, she approached the railing.

She studied the box for a moment. She could see her reflection in the iridescent black metal. As she raised her arm, a surge of reluctance ran through her and doubt hit her sharply in the stomach; she knew Lex was assuredly filled with the same reservations.

If she followed through, the box was irretrievable. Paranoia choked her. Could she really do this, and trust her fate in the event of a third invasion to the enigmatic Kal-El, who might or might not be as good as Lois believed?

Her courage failed her utterly, and she wished for some of Lois's courage.

In that instant, it was as though the other woman stood at her side, lending her strength. She was followed by more. Loyal Chloe, steadfast Martha, capricious Nell, they all stood with Lana on the precipice, and with them she felt her conviction surge strong again. The phantom hand of Laura Lang laid on her shoulder, and with the mother's faith guiding her, the daughter hurled the hard drive of the black ship into the inferno before her.

The blaze of heat seemed to reach out to seize it, and then the door closed and her attendants vanished, leaving her just Lana Lang again. Both she and Lex breathed deep sighs; whether they were of regret or relief, neither was sure.

Lana's heart was racing, but neither Lex nor Dr. Grohl could have known that.

"Very good, very good," Dr. Grohl said nervously. "Now let's get out of this heat."

"I think that would be an excellent idea," Lex agreed.

The two men walked toward the stairs. Lex paused at the bottom step, turning back to Lana, who was staring into the closing mouth of the furnace as though transfixed. Her expression was a puzzle of wonderment and fear.

"Lana?" Lex called back. "Are you coming?"

She jumped a little. "Oh. Yeah," she replied, forcing up a laugh to cover her distraction.

She turned and started forward to join them, but before she had gone more than a few steps, something deep in the furnace exploded with great force, leaving the machine intact but rocking the rusting system of walkways above. The section Lana stood upon, no longer secured by the four missing bolts, slipped from its position and dropped to the floor many yards below, leaving her clinging by her fingertips to the railing she had managed to gasp. A sharp yelp burst from her throat as she held on for dear life.

Yelling her name, Lex darted back onto the walkway, reaching desperately for her. Before he could reach the gap, however, a second rumble from the interior of the furnace sent him reeling toward the railing for stability while Dr. Grohl looked on in horror.

Lana's hands, slick with sweat from the infernal heat, could no longer keep a grip on the smooth, narrow rail. She slipped, and in one panicked, giddy second, her only thought was that Clark wouldn't catch her this time around. A shrill scream escaped her lips as she dropped.

Lex and Dr. Grohl could only watch helplessly as she landed hard on the concrete below, and lay still.

* * *

><p>Clark had been getting ready to eat dinner when the phone had rung. To his horror, it had been a frantic Chloe on the line, calling to inform him that Lana had been in some kind of accident. Chloe was stuck in Metropolis until at least midnight and wouldn't be able to make it to the hospital, so she begged him to go in her stead and give her more detail than Lex had provided in his hurried phone call.<p>

He agreed distractedly. Even if Chloe hadn't asked it of him, he would have gone to the hospital anyway. As usual, his heart was constricted at the thought of Lana injured or in any kind of danger. He wouldn't have been able to rest until he was sure that she would be alright.

A breath and a half later, he was striding into the hospital.

It didn't take him long to find the right place. He spotted Lex pacing the circuit of the waiting room, and even the other man's obvious anxiety couldn't curb the irrational anger that had lodged itself in his heart.

"Where's Lana?" he demanded. Lex didn't reply quickly enough for Clark's liking, so he added, more forcefully: "I want to talk to her."

Lex's expression, as usual, was hard to read, but his voice betrayed his nerves as he snapped, "You lost your visiting rights a while back, Clark."

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, Lex," he fired back. "Since you've been with her, she has a funny habit of getting hurt."

"And how many times did she wind up in the hospital when she was dating you?" he asked. "If you really want to know, Lana fell almost two stories in a freak accident. Upon impact she broke several of her ribs, one of which punctured her lung. She's in surgery right now."

Clark felt a little faint at the thought. "She'll be alright, though?"

Lex didn't answer directly. "Save yourself a trip next time, Clark," he said bitingly. "Just send flowers."

At that moment, a distinguished-looking doctor, with brown hair turning to salt and pepper at the temples, appeared in the doorway of the waiting room and gestured to Lex. The billionaire immediately turned away from Clark, pausing only to give him a raised eyebrow that suggested that perhaps it would be in his best interests to leave. Clark felt relieved as Lex walked away. Every encounter with him was painful, seeing this calculating, hateful man wearing the face of his friend. Wondering if all this had been there the whole time and he'd just ben too blind to see it.

Lex followed the doctor around the corner and into his office. "What is it, Dr. Bethany?" he asked. "Is Lana alright?"

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Bethany said, "Your girlfriend will be fine. She's coming out of surgery now. We repaired the damage to her collapsed lung and the rib will heal in time. I actually thought you'd be more interested in something that came up in pre-op."

"At this particular moment, Doctor, there's very little that's more interesting to me than Lana's health, and my patience is wearing extremely thin."

Bethany nodded. "I'll be brief. I was performing a routine blood test and I noticed some unusual levels of certain chemicals in Miss Lang's blood, so while Dr. Sing was operating I ran a few more tests." He handed a few pieces of paper to Lex. "Take a look at the results yourself."

Lex studied the information with outward dispassion for a few minutes. "So this means...?"

"Yes."

"Lana is-?"

"Yes."

"How much longer will she be under sedation?"

"Several hours."

Lex nodded decisively. "I want a full battery of tests, and I want you to personally oversee them. Deliver the results to me directly. I want to kno everything."

Bethany inclined his head in assent. "By next week you'll know everything contemporary science can tell you."

Out in the waiting room, meanwhile, Clark had encountered a jittery Lois, clearly more full of coffee than was probably healthy. Noting the wild look in her eyes, Clark felt compelled to ask, "Hey, are you okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine, Clark. I saw two guys die yesterday and a friend of mine is in the hospital after a near-fatal accident. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

Clark sighed. Lana's accident had him tightly wound, too. "Sorry. You know what I mean."

A somewhat rueful look on her face, Lois said, "Well, I guess I've found a new coping mechanism," she informed him. "Turns out keeping hot on the trail of a mystery is a great distraction."

"Mystery?"

Lois nodded with manic enthusiasm, and Clark made a private resolution to try to limit her caffeine intake. "Okay, in the last 48 hours, two of Lex and Oliver's old school friends died in violent accidents."

"And you think Lex was almost the third?"

She nodded. "But Lana got caught in the crossfire. How is she, by the way? They wouldn't tell me anything."

"She just got out of surgery," Clark said. "Her left lung was punctured when one of her ribs snapped, and they had to repair it. I don't know much more than that, but I overheard one of the doctors talking earlier. She's pretty banged up, but she'll heal."

"Good," Lois said, looking visibly relieved.

Clark was surprised. For someone with such an expressive face, Lois usually made sure to keep her true emotions in check. It was part of what made it so easy for him to keep her at a relative emotional distance. Not for the first time, he felt a powerful, unexplained desire to see the full scope of what lay behind her masks. Tonight, however, her whole face was as easy to read as her eyes sometimes were. Some combination of stress, the lateness of the hour, and the fact that she had apparently been taking in coffee through an IV, had torn down that wall.

"So do you think these attacks are going to continue?" Clark asked, disconcerted by his abrupt exposure to the unfiltered Lois, and eager for something to distract himself.

Lois shrugged. "Well, Lex and Ollie aren't dead yet, so..." She trailed off morbidly.

Clark grimaced.

"I think it has something to do with some kid named Duncan they all knew, but Ollie wouldn't tell me anything."

"Okay," Clark said. "I'm going to talk to Oliver."

Lois shook her head. "If he didn't want to talk to me, I doubt he's gonna spill his guts to you, Smallville. Look, I know you want to help, because that's what you do, but bugging Ollie when he's obviously not interested in talking isn't going to get us anywhere. Why don't you help me investigate, instead?"

Clark was suddenly assailed by an image of Lois, pale and broken and lying in a hospital bed intended for Oliver Queen. He had never been sick to his stomach, but he imagined it must feel a lot like the internal churning precipitated by that thought. He had to actively restrain a shudder.

"No, Lois, you should stay out of this. We don't know what's going on; it could get really dangerous."

She was obviously incredulous, and he could tell immediately that he'd managed to step in it again. "Clark, I don't let my boyfriend _or_ my father boss me around, and last time I checked, you weren't Ollie or the General."

"I hope not," Clark shot back, trying to tease the scowl off her face. He was rewarded with a reluctant twitch of her lips. "Look, I guess I should know by now that I can't stop you digging into this, but I just don't wanna see you end up sharing a hospital room with Lana, alright?"

"Said it before- _recently_, as I recall-" she said, with a pointed look, "and I'll say it again: I can take care of myself. You're sweet to worry, but I'm gonna man up and get to the bottom of this like a real reporter. Preferably before the Grim Reaper drops something very heavy on my hot boyfriend." And with a twirl of her hair, she was gone, striding off down the hall with intense focus apparent even in the way she walked.

Clark was left with a sinking in his gut; he wondered why it felt so strange to hear Lois refer to Oliver as her boyfriend.

* * *

><p>Clark had considered going to see Oliver regardless of what Lois had said, but with the strange way they had left things the afternoon before, he wasn't really in a hurry to talk to Mr. Queen anytime soon. As it turned out, though, he didn't need to. A visit to Lionel Luthor had provided the necessary information. It had taken a lot of prying, but the name Duncan Allenmyer, which Clark had discovered in an old Excelsior yearbook, had done the trick and the floodgates had opened.<p>

The tale he had discovered had sickened Clark. Oliver Queen was many things, but Clark had never envisioned him as a bully, even in his formative years. And what the truth of Duncan's tragedy said about Lex was even worse. To know that a man he had once considered his dearest friend had been capable of such anger and violence- not to mention sheer deviousness- years before Clark had known him was painful.

He didn't exactly consider Lionel's hands clean in the whole business, either. The Luthor patriarch might have been genuinely acting in his son's best interests (key words being "might have"), but the way he had concealed the fact that his son's only friend had survived the trauma to his body- albeit in a vegetative state- was just sick on so many levels.

But all this had led him, the day after Lana's accident, to the hospital where Duncan Allenmyer was being treated for his brain injuries. And to his unending astonishment, who should he find there, but-

"Smallville?"

_Lois._

"Lois, what are you doing here?"

Lois grinned at him, but he detected traces of stress in her face. "I told you I was investigating this thing, Smallville. I'm following a lead. I checked out Duncan's mother."

"She's dead," Clark pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "I know that, Sherlock. On a hunch, I dug up all her old phone records. And every day while she was still kicking, she placed a call to this facility."

Despite himself, Clark was impressed. Lois didn't have his connections, she didn't have his unique "special advantages," and the only one of the three people still living who knew might have explained the whole story wouldn't tell her about it, but she had still traced a lead that would inevitably lead her to the truth. He wondered for the umpteenth time if Lois had some kind of latent psychic talent. He decided fill in the last piece of the puzzle.

"She was checking on her son," he told her.

"Duncan? I thought he was dead!"

"Yeah, so did everyone else," Clark said darkly. "I think he's in this room." He gestured to the door immediately to his right.

She was visibly surprised. "How do you know all this?"

"You're not the only one with hunches," he shot back, smirking.

Lois grinned, obviously as impressed as he had earlier been. "Nice work." She reached for the doorknob.

"Lois," he cautioned.

"Nuh-uh. It's my investigation," she said, and proceeded to jiggle the handle. "It's locked. You stay here. I'm gonna flirt us up a set of keys, all right?"

He waited until her back was turned, then quickly broke the lock. "Lois," he called after her. She looked back at him and he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to indicate the now-open door. "It was just stuck."

She cleared her throat, apparently embarrassed, and he couldn't imagine why. In a typically Lois act to hide her discomposure, she said in a teasing voice, "Ladies first." She indicated that he should precede her.

Giving the expected response in accordance with their usual dance, he rolled his eyes and entered the room first.

And there, seated in a wheelchair, slumped to one side and drooling on his hospital gown, was Duncan Allenmyer.

* * *

><p>Lois gaped, horror-struck. Clark had been right- someone had been keeping Duncan alive. She glanced at the monitor which displayed the readouts from the electrodes hooked to his temples. "I'm not a doctor, but I've seen enough Discovery Channel to know you don't get the squiggly lines when you're in a vegetative state," she pointed out.<p>

Clark grimaced. "Guess the new treatments are working."

"What new treatment?" she asked, looking at him.

He had a clipboard in his hand, and she guessed it held Duncan's chart. "Something called 12-B," he read. "It's experimental. It's derived from refined meteor rocks." His expression was dark. Lois wasn't too keen on the idea, either. With what she had learned about Smallville's meteors since she began her search for Kal-El, she was even more disinclined than usual to trust anything that contained traces of the strange rocks.

She went to his side and looked at the page. Immediately she noticed something. "Clark, they started giving him this stuff two days ago. Look at the injection times."

"They coincide with the attacks," he said.

"Maybe we just found our killer."

"No, wait a minute -these treatments, they might stimulate brain activity, but he's still in a wheelchair," Clark pointed out, shaking his head.

"His body is, yeah, but look at his charts!" Lois exclaimed. "His new cocktail is whipping up a hell of an electrical storm. Now, I know it's usually Chloe who makes the logic leaps right into Twilight Zone territory, but I've spent enough time in Smallville that I guess it's catching up to me, too. Is it so far out there that maybe the meteor rocks have done something to his brain? Something that would let him cause these accidents from a distance?"

Clark looked skeptical and Lois took offense. "Do you have a better explanation?" she asked sarcastically.

"No. When was his last injection?"

"Twenty minutes ago," she replied, reading off the chart. Before she even had time to really register the feeling of unease that information caused, the monitors attached to Duncan started beeping wildly. "Oh my God, it's happening again!" she exclaimed. "Smallville, I-"

But Clark was gone.

Lois stared at Duncan, who began twitching and jerking spastically in his wheelchair, as if he were having a seizure of some kind, while the lights in his room flashed and his monitors continued to beep erratically. She stood frozen, for once completely unsure what kind of action she should take. Part of her wanted to get out of the room, sure that someone would come to check on Duncan and find her there, but another part of her wanted desperately to help the man, despite what she suspected he had been doing. If she had been a doctor, she would have, but she didn't know much about medicine beyond her First Aid training.

Abruptly, all the lines on Duncan's monitor ceased their erratic movement and went flatline, and all the lights in the room burst in a shower of sparks. The steady tone from the equipment told Lois all she needed to know: Duncan Allenmyer was dead.

_Witnessing four deaths in three days_, she thought distantly. _That's got to be a personal record._

She felt a little queasy as she ran into the hall, calling for a nurse or somebody. It didn't take her more than a minute to regain her composure, but it was the most she'd been unsettled in awhile. She was a strong individual and she prided herself on her ability to take a lot of hits- both physical _and_ emotional- without going down for the count, but the past few days had been pretty rough.

A few minutes later, as they were wheeling Duncan's corpse away on a stretcher, Clark showed up again. Lois felt a little flare of irritation, wishing he'd been there with her. Not that she wanted a nice guy like Smallville to have to witness any more death than he had to, but it would have been nice to have somebody else there.

"Hey, what happened?" he asked.

"You went AWOL while things heated up, as usual," she said, and wondered if she really sounded as cavalier as she seemed to her own ears.

His expression was hard to read as he said, "I went to go find a phone to warn Oliver and Lex."

"Did you get a hold of them?" she asked, anxious suddenly to find out if her boyfriend was alright. And Lex, too, for Lana's sake, but mostly Oliver. "Are they all right?"

He nodded, and a little of the hard knot of tension that had formed in her chest relaxed. "A little worse for wear. Oliver said whatever happened just suddenly stopped," he informed her.

"Well, Duncan went flatline, like he blew a fuse or something," she explained to him in turn. "I wonder what caused it," she mused idly.

"You need that for your article?" he asked.

Lois looked up at him sharply. "I'm not writing an article, Clark."

"But I thought-"

"It would make a juicy story for the Planet, but that's not the reason I was investigating. I was worried for Oliver's safety, especially after what happened to Lana. If I'd gotten an article out of it, all the better. But considering the outcome, an exploitation piece on a catatonic patient astral-projecting his way to revenge might be in bad taste."

Clark's expression was complex as he looked at her, and she didn't have the faintest idea what he was thinking, which was strange. Usually Clark was an open book to her (except when he wasn't). "Would you still feel the same way if Oliver wasn't involved?" he asked.

She shrugged. "We've all done things we're not proud of," she pointed out. "I just wish that Oliver didn't feel like he had to hide it from me."

Clark's eyebrows rose. "You know... sometimes in order to protect the people we love, we keep secrets."

Lois shook her head. "That is... totally retarded. People should have the right to decide what they can handle."

And she walked away, leaving a flabbergasted Clark in her wake.

* * *

><p>Lana was pale, but the doctors had assured him that between the blood loss she had suffered and the effects of the anesthesia she had been under for most of night and that morning, her pallor was normal. Lex sat by her bedside and watched her as she slept. Looking at her, he would never have guessed the secret that her blood and body held. Dr. Bethany had promised him that he would have the samples and scans he had taken analyzed and the results ready to present to him within a week or two. Lex was impatient, though. His curiosity was piqued, and he wondered if Lana herself had any inkling.<p>

She stirred. "Lex?" she mumbled, opening those big brown eyes to gaze at him curiously.

He smiled at her, grasping her hand and putting away, at least for the moment, all thoughts of the doctor's discovery. "Hi," he said softly.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You fell. You had to have surgery."

The lingering effects of the drugs were evident in the lack of focus in her gaze. Lex was surprised. They had stopped giving her sedatives around noon, right around the time he had been involved in his latest confrontation with Oliver Queen, and it was nine o'clock at night, at least.

"Surgery for what?" she asked quietly.

"Some broken ribs, and your lung was punctured," he told her, brushing back a lock of her hair.

Lana nodded sleepily. "Lex-" she began, but he interrupted, the need to confess overriding every other concern.

"Lana, this is all my fault," he said.

And he poured out the whole story to her. Duncan, his only friend. Oliver Queen and his pack of bullies. His sins against the boy who might otherwise have been his partner and best friend for life. The truth about Duncan, hidden even from him for so long. How the young man, awakened by a treatment only Lionel Luthor and his lap-dog doctors had known about, had enacted a revenge whose sword had fallen on her instead of its intended target.

And when Lana looked at him with those eyes and forgave him, Lex laid his head down on the tiny hand he still clasped in his own and felt as though he had been granted absolution.

* * *

><p>That evening, Oliver Queen paid a second visit to the loft.<p>

"Clark, man, I don't know what to say," he said once Clark had invited him up the stairs. "You saved my life. Thank you."

With a wry grin, Clark responded, "Guess you knew what to say after all."

"Cute," Oliver shot back, a reluctant grin on his face as well. "We might have to start getting along if you keep this up."

"It's looking that way."

Oliver's expression took a slight turn for the dark. "So, that thing that attacked us," he reasoned slowly. "Duncan's astral body or whatever you want to call it... It must have been some form of electrical manifestation?"

Clark nodded. For lack of a better way of explaining it, they had latched onto Lois's theory of astral projection. "And it got fried by your electromagnetic arrow. Along with what was left of Duncan's brain," he said sadly.

"I guess you're right," Oliver said remorsefully.

"You know, making the wrong choices and living with the consequences... it's not easy, is it?" Clark offered gently.

Oliver looked at him curiously. "Speaking from experience, huh?" he deduced.

Clark nodded. "More than I'd like."

"You know," Oliver said with a sigh, "we all make bad choices, Clark. All we can do is hope to make the right ones in the future, right?"

"Sounds about right," Clark agreed.

Oliver reached into his back pocket and extracted a green-backed disc. He held it out to the younger man. "Here," he said. "Put this in your computer- it'll get you access to the Queen Industries satellite archives."

Clark's eyebrows raised even as he smiled gratefully. "I thought you said you wouldn't give me access unless I joined your team."

"Yeah, well, making the right choices, right?" Oliver said by way of explanation. "Look, I guess what happened today... it made me realize what kind of guy you really are. I guess I knew that, but I didn't wanna believe it, you know? Whether you're with us or not, you'll do the right thing by the rest of the world. I'd like you to work with me and my friends, but trying to manipulate you isn't gonna help, is it?"

Clark shook his head, repressing his grin at the wry, self-recriminating tone in his new friend's voice. "Never been a big fan of being a puppet, no."

"Well, I just wanted to bring you that, and apologize, so I should head back to Metropolis." He hesitated, then continued. "Look, Clark... I still think you should consider my offer. Who knows? You might actually find you like it. Actually, you might even find a few familiar faces," he said leadingly. "Just... think about it, okay?"

Clark nodded. "I'll think about it. I've got some messes of my own to clean up, but maybe once that's dealt with..."

"I understand," Oliver agreed. "And if you ever need a hand with anything- I mean, not that I imagine you tend to need much help, all powers considered, but if you ever get in a jam-"

"I know who to call," Clark agreed.

Oliver smiled. "See you around?"

"Yep."

"Say hi to Lois for me. You'll probably see her before I do."

"Will do," Clark agreed amiably. "Good night, Oliver."

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** This chapter was originally supposed to include another Clois heart-to-heart, but that's been bumped back a few chapters, I'm afraid to say. It just didn't make sense put here. However, when it officially occurs, trust me, you'll appreciate it all the more because the timing will be a lot better.

I love reviews, and would deeply appreciate hearing your feedback, even on this stinker of a chapter.


	9. 8: Burn Notice

**A/N-** This is Fallout. It doesn't change. Weeeeelll, except for one wee little thing...

Also, just FYI? Over the next couple of "episodes" I'm gonna do my damndest to clean up some of the official writers' continuity!fail. Early June to early November does NOT take six weeks, for instance.

And another example is just exactly what McNally had his slave labor doing, because I'm sorry, but have any of you actually BEEN to Kansas after Thanksgiving? See, I grew up in the Corn Belt and I can say with absolute authority that short of a miracle, it's not gonna be sunny and green and warm enough for t-shirts in December. Yeah, I'm OCD enough to mess with the weather for the sake of my own Midwestern sensibilities (also: _really_, Smallville? Grand mountains and rocky streams and thick, mossy forests in _Kansas_? I DON'T THINK SO! I know they were filming in Vancouver, but REALLY, Smallville?).

* * *

><p>8. Burn Notice<p>

"_Summertime, I can't believe _  
><em>she's in my head again<em>  
><em>Don't you confuse-<em>  
><em>I might put up a fight, <em>  
><em>but I'm not bulletproof.<em>"  
>-Dishwalla<p>

* * *

><p>Chloe pinched her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder, hoping she'd manage to keep it in place long enough to get the enormous stack of papers one of the staff writers had given her to their positions in the hard-copy files. "It impacted about four months ago," she said, explaining the information she had gotten from Oliver Queen's satellite grid. "That was right around the time you fell out of the Phantom Zone. It gets worse. He's already killed at least once. Two boys went missing on the site of the crater. All they found were human ashes and a basketball."<p>

"Sounds like heat vision," Clark remarked.

"Not unless your heat vision comes with a radiation setting," she countered, as she slid a few more files into their appropriate slots. "The ashes were off the geiger charts, and the next day, the nuclear facilities 20 miles away were hit."

Clark wondered aloud, "Any idea why the Zoner would be there?"

"Well, aside from giving the five researchers a premature cremation, the radioactive material that they'd been working with was sucked dry," Chloe said, wondering if he would put the pieces together the way she had.

"It's almost like he was feeding off it," he said thoughtfully, adding: "We need to check all the plants in the area."

"Hello? Um, have you met me?" she responded, and regretted the instinctive movement she had made to accompany her smart remark, because her phone slid a few centimeters further down her shoulder, forcing her to tilt her head at an even more awkward angle. "There have been at least twelve incidents across the continent. The most recent one was just outside of Metropolis. Now, I rendered the list on a map, and the attacks form a straight line... headed directly for Metropolis."

She could practically see Clark's face, undoubtedly a combination of guilt and grim determination. "I'm guessing he's not here for the nightlife."

"Last I heard, psychotic alien criminals weren't big on the party scene, no," she agreed. "Listen, I'll make a list of all the possible sites within a 100-mile radius and get back to you."

"Thanks."

With a great deal of relief, Chloe allowed the phone to slip from its extremely precarious position and onto the slightly slimmer stack of paper in her hands. She set the remainder of the files on her desk and grabbed her phone, slipping it back into her purse just as she spotted a familiar dirty-blond head over the crowd in the bullpen. "Hey! The wayward boyfriend returns!" she called as he approached.

Much to her surprise, Jimmy flopped dejectedly into her desk chair.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just spent the whole night outside the Luthor mansion, that's what," he muttered waspishly. "It rained and everything, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing!"

Chloe's eyebrows rose, and she perched herself on the edge of her desk to listen to him. "Should I ask why you were playing Black Ops with Lex's house?" she asked, amused despite- in fact, partially because of- his mood.

Jimmy shrugged. "I know Lana trusts him and all, but I figure there's no way a guy gets that rich playing it clean. Thought I'd stake out at the house for a couple of days, maybe follow him if he left at odd hours or something. I mean, is one suspicious back alley handoff too much to ask for?"

She couldn't help it: she laughed at his righteous indignation.

"What?" he asked, taking offense at her amusement.

"Jimmy," she said in a placating tone, "I'm with you one hundred percent that Lex is probably dirty. God knows, I've played my share of Lionel's brand of hardball to believe that Lex could be much better, but unfortunately the schemes of the rich and criminal don't always fit a reporter's schedule."

He sighed dramatically, but a smile was growing on his lips as he got to his feet and kissed her passionately.

"Jimmy! We're in the bullpen, not the back of my Yaris!" she protested once he'd let her go.

"Which I will be looking forward to visiting again soon," he remarked in a low voice intended for her ears only. "How is it that you always manage to put things in perspective for me?"

"It's a gift," she teased, kissing him briefly. She forced herself to step away before she forgot herself and started engaging in conduct totally inappropriate for the newsroom setting.

* * *

><p>As Clark hung up the phone, Chloe's warning had his hackles up, and the rustling noise from the door of the barn had the hair on the back of his neck.<p>

"Who's there?" he called.

From out of the shadows emerged a tall, blonde woman. Her lilac eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Raya?" he asked, gaping.

"Hello, Kal-El," she replied with a smile.

"_Raya?_" he repeated in utter disbelief.

The last time he had seen this woman, this most loyal follower of Jor-El's, she had been collapsing with a cry onto the scorching earth in the windswept wasteland of the Phantom Zone, a bone dagger thrust between her ribs. He had been powerless in that moment to save her, already being whirled away by the opening portal. Guilt over Raya's death, more than anything else, had haunted him from Dark Thursday. It was Raya's sacrifice- her life exchanged to buy him time to escape- that had driven him more than all the rest to make every reparation possible to the victims of the riots and the global earthquake.

And yet here she was, hale and grinning, dressed in human clothing and standing in his barn.

"How did you escape?" he asked.

"I was standing close enough when you opened the portal that I was drawn through with you." Her bright smile turned to a pensive look that he suspected contained just a hint of chastisement. "And I wasn't the only one."

He nodded his understanding. "The other prisoners that escaped," he acknowledged.

"How many?" she asked, turning to walk out of the barn and indicating that he should follow her.

Clark didn't need to wonder what she meant. "I'm not sure. At least eight, maybe more, from the craters we've found. Although, one of those was you, so I guess it's less than we originally thought..."

"And one was Aethyr," Raya told him, referencing the raven-haired Kryptonian who had plunged the dagger into her side. "That's part of why it took me so long to find you. Under the influence of the yellow sun, I healed from my injuries quickly, but she tracked me down. She was Nam-Ek's consort, and she wanted vengeance for his death."

"So... you fought her?" Clark guessed, as they headed for the fence that surrounded the north edge of the grassy yard.

Raya sighed ruefully. "Something like that. Nam-Ek was prone to displays of brute strength, but Aethyr was a true disciple of Zod in every way: a master of strategy, among other useful talents. It was a cat-and-mouse game across the whole continent of Asia," she explained. "She was hunting me, trying to frighten me into making a mistake and letting my guard down, but in the end..." The grim set of her mouth told Clark what she didn't- or couldn't- say aloud.

"And then," she added, "while I was still in Asia- I believe it was somewhere in the country your people would call India- I came across that nasty fellow from Barth with a predilection for leaving his victims dessicated, and I spent a great deal of time tracking him down."

"You stopped him?" Clark asked.

She nodded.

"Thank you," he said, "for helping me clean up my own mess."

Raya raised one eyebrow. "You really are your father's son," she remarked. "He shouldered the blame for everything, too. But honestly, Kal-El, I'm as much to blame here as you are. I should have taken precautions against this very thing. After all, I helped build the portal."

"Still, it's my fault for getting trapped in the Zone in the first place," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "We could stand here arguing all day about who was most at fault for letting prisoners escape, and if you're even half as stubborn as your parents, we'll never get anywhere."

He couldn't help but smile. It seemed that Kents and Lanes weren't the only stubborn families in the universe. He looked at Raya as she stood there in the autumn sunshine, surveying the place where he had grown up. He wondered what it looked like to her. She had known where Jor-El and Lara would have raised him had Krypton not been destroyed, and it occurred to him that his own home must seem very different in contrast.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he told her. "I'm sorry for leaving you in the Phantom Zone."

"You had no choice," she reassured him, leaning back against the rails of the fence they had reached. "If it wasn't for you, I'd never have escaped. I'd never have seen all this-" She made a sweeping gesture to encompass not just the Kent farm, but the whole of Kansas. Maybe the whole world. "It's even more beautiful than Jor-El described."

"How did you find me, anyway?" Clark asked.

"Jor-El told me of the family he had chosen for you, and it wasn't hard to guess that they were probably in Smallville."

"What do you mean?"

Raya shrugged. "It isn't as though your father's time in Smallville wasn't well-known," she said. "Actually, it was fodder for gossip for quite some time after his return to Krypton."

Clark's eyebrows went up at that. "You knew him so well, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Some might have said I was his best friend," she replied. "They weren't exactly right about that, but I was his confidante in a time when he had no one else. He trusted me when the whole world- excepting your mother, of course- had turned against him, when he was racing against time to save you." She looked around once again at the little farm. "It must have been hard growing up here all alone," she observed.

"I had my parents, I had my friends," he protested.

"But no one who really understood you," she pointed out.

"You're asking what it was like to grow up with such a big secret," Clark guessed.

Raya's smile was faraway as she added, "And the amazing rush of racing trains, knowing nothing can hurt you..."

It was something he tended to forget. In all his longing to be normal, he sometimes lost sight of how wonderful his powers really could be. That tended to get lost in the shuffle, but moments like this, with someone who really could understand what it felt like standing right there beside him, it came back to the surface.

"I used to try to pretend not to notice, but sometimes I would catch my dad watching me when I'd picked something up that was impossible for him to even move," he said. "He wanted so much to know what that felt like."

"But he never could," Raya said sympathetically.

"No matter how I think I fit in... every day I'm reminded I'm not one of them."

He thought of Lana, and how her honest, innocent confession that the idea of aliens on Earth genuinely freaked her out had made him long to be human. He thought of Pete, the burden of his secret that had driven his first true friend away from his home and the girl he loved, just to protect him. He also thought of Chloe, who had been his most stalwart ally, and Lois who seemed more than ready to take up her cousin's banner and defend Kal-El even to himself (even if she didn't know it). And in all this mass of glittering humanity, where did he fit into all of it?

"You're not alone anymore. I'm here now. And-" Raya added, a glint of mischief in her eyes, "We ought to have a little fun with it. There's all the time in the world tomorrow to chase prisoners, but I've been trapped in hell for decades and I'd like to truly live a little before getting back to work."

She vanished in a burst of super-speed, and with a grin, Clark took off after her. He hadn't been able to race anyone like this since Bart had blown through town a few years previously...

* * *

><p>Lex was in the study when the door opened and Lana appeared. His stomach- as had been its habit for the past week since her accident- dropped sharply to his toes at the sight of her. She still had livid bruises on her arms and up her neck, and he knew there were visible reminders of her brush with death elsewhere on her body. But what really shook the breath from his body was the fact that she was wheelchair bound, per the doctor's orders. In order not to jostle her broken ribs or her newly reinflated left lung, Lana had been released from the hospital under the strict condition that she not be allowed to walk under her own power in order to avoid risking permanent damage.<p>

"Lex?" she called.

"What is it? Do you need anything?" he asked.

She let out a soft laugh accompanied by the tiniest grimace, and he guessed her ribs were hurting her. "No," she assured him. "Lex, you don't need to hover over me. I just wanted to know whether you'd prefer lamb or fish for dinner. Chef Andre wants to know."

He closed his eyes briefly and let go of the worry that flooded him every time he was reminded of how fragile she was. "I'm not hovering," he protested. "And even if I were, it most certainly would be necessary, Lana. You were almost killed not so long ago."

She smiled at him. "And I'll be fine in time, Lex. You know," she added musingly, "It almost seems as though it might have been worth it. We destroyed the box, and I know I said I wasn't sure about it at the time, but now that it's done..."

He nodded. "I know what you mean." To be honest, he really didn't. The black box had been critically important to his ongoing investigation into extraterrestrial happenings on Earth- as well as Project Ares- but by the time of its destruction, he had retrieved more data than he'd initially imagined, so he considered the project a success all around. And if it kept Lana happy...

"I'll be fine in a few weeks, Lex," she reassured him once more. "Dr. Bethany said himself that I should be back on my feet soon."

Lex bent over her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, more for his benefit than for hers. "Tell Andre that the lamb will be fine," he said.

* * *

><p>Lana wheeled herself back to the lounge on the first floor she had come to favor since her release from the hospital, due to its accessibility. She was about to take up the book she had abandoned before her detour to the kitchen earlier, when her cell phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket proved difficult, from her seated position, but at last she managed to retrieve it and answer with a sharp-sounding, "What?"<p>

"Whoa, someone's in a mood!" came Chloe's voice from the other end of the line.

Lana let out a slow breath. "Sorry. I'm just getting really frustrated being stuck in this chair all day."

"I bet," Chloe said. "How is that going?"

"Well, I definitely have a new appreciation for elevators," Lana replied. "I've had to move into the guest bedroom downstairs for the time being because the mansion, for all its state-of-the-art updates? Kind of light on wheelchair accessibility."

"Ouch. When do they think you'll be back up and about?"

"Dr. Bethany said I should be able to stop using the chair in a few weeks."

Chloe clicked her tongue sympathetically. "You know," she said, "I still can't understand what you were doing at Cadmus Labs, of all places, to have had an accident like that."

Lana had been deliberately sketchy about what she'd told her friends regarding her accident. But then again, this was Chloe, her best friend through thick and thin. "Actually," she confided, "do you remember what I told you about Dark Thursday? How Zod was going to use the black ship's hard drive to destroy the world?"

"Yeah?" Chloe asked, sounding intrigued.

"Well, Lex found the hard drive. He'd been studying it."

"Oh my god, Lana, you have to destroy that thing!" Chloe exclaimed. "If the wrong people-"

Lana interrupted her friend's stream of words. "Chloe! It's okay. That's what I was doing at Cadmus that day. We used the blast furnace installed in the sub-basement to incinerate the box."

It seemed to surprise Chloe to hear this. "Really?" she asked. "I'm surprised Lex agreed to it."

"Honestly?" Lana confided, "I'm surprised that I suggested it- or at least I was, at the time. I know now that it was the right thing to do, but I don't know if I'd have had the guts to go through with it if I hadn't talked to Lois about it."

Immediately after the words had left her mouth, Lana wondered if mentioning her confidences in Lois was a wise idea. Chloe had seemed jealous of her deepening friendship with her cousin, and though Lana felt she had reassured her friend, Chloe's strangled-sounding "Lois?" seemed to indicate that perhaps that jealousy was more deeply-rooted than she had thought.

"Yeah," she replied. "I went by the Talon right after I found out, and Lois was there, and I asked her for advice."

Reluctantly, it seemed, Chloe said, "Lois is good at giving advice."

"She is," Lana agreed. "She helped me remember that even though studying the box might be helpful, it could also be incredibly dangerous. So I talked to Lex, and we destroyed it."

"And then a little astral intervention caused the accident," Chloe summarized.

"Pretty much," Lana said, wincing as her ribs throbbed.

"Well, the reason I was calling was that I wanted to ask, since you're housebound for awhile, if you might like some company."

Lana's spirits soared at the prospect. Lois had dropped by a time or two since the accident, but between her job for Mrs. Kent, her freelancing for the Planet, and working on her coursework for her online classes (not to mention the time she was setting aside for Oliver), she hadn't had much time to spend with her friends lately. A few hours of time with Chloe would be a welcome distraction from her growing frustration with her current state.

"I'd love that. When are you free?"

* * *

><p>They had circled the state (twice) before arriving back in Smallville, and Clark <em>might<em> have fudged a little on the exact parameters of their "no cutting through cornfields" rule to catch up to her.

"You cheated!" Raya exclaimed as she slid to a halt in the driveway.

He grinned, feeling thrillingly alive. "Well, I couldn't let a rookie catch me in the last county!" he protested.

"Jor-El would never have let you get away with that," she said, returning his smile.

"What was he like?" Clark asked.

"Brave," she said immediately. "Strong. With the biggest heart I've ever known."

Clark had to physically restrain letting his surprise show. "That's not the Jor-El I imagined," he admitted.

Raya touched him on the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm not surprised," she said. "I helped your father design the AI he created to help guide you and oversee your training. It mimics his speech patterns pretty well, but it lacks a lot of his heart." She shrugged. "We were under just a _little_ bit of a deadline," she added, morbid sarcasm infusing her tone.

"I imagine," Clark responded dryly.

"But I remember helping him build your ship. He was so careful to get every detail just right- right down to your baby blanket." She smiled. "I wish he could see you now."

The upswing of positive feelings towards his father that both Raya and Lois had been provoking lately rose up to choke him with guilt at that statement. "I haven't been the best son," he confessed uncomfortably.

"He was hard on himself, too," she told him. "He felt guilty that he couldn't save Krypton. His only redemption was sending you to save Earth."

"Save it from what?"

"Extinction. Your civilization is going to destroy itself, just like Krypton," Raya said, and her formerly sympathetic tone was either accusing or disbelieving- he wasn't entirely sure which. "You should know this. It was part of your training!"

"I haven't started my training," Clark said, and if he'd felt bad before, it was nothing compared to how guilty he felt now. "I've been afraid. Jor-El's brought so much pain to my life and I knew so little about him..."

Raya frowned. "I can tell you about him, but Kal-El, you should have trusted him! You need to begin your training!"

A voice echoed down on them from the loft above. "He's not gonna have the time." As the pair of them looked up, a gangly, skinny young man of dark complexion and aggressive attitude descended the stairs to join them on the barn floor. "The Last Son of Krypton," he said. "I've waited a long time for this."

"You're the one who's been coming for me," Clark realized immediately.

The newcomer smirked. "And I think it will be worth the trip." He glanced at Clark's companion and jerked his head in a hostile greeting. "What's the matter, Raya? Don't you recognize an old friend?"

"Baern," she said in a low, angry voice.

The Zoner attacked them. Clark went on the defensive, and found himself surprised by Baern's strength. The radioactive blast he fired into his opponent was almost enough to cause him pain. He had the fleeting thought that he was lucky Raya was there as she fought off the attacker with an impressive spin kick that even Lois would have envied.

Raya knelt at his side, Baern momentarily forgotten. "Kal-El? Are you alright?" she asked.

He nodded. "Where is he?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the place Baern had been thrown, but he was gone. She grimaced. "It looks like your family history is going to have to wait. We have to stop him."

* * *

><p>Clark led Raya into the basement of the Daily Planet. With a Zoner nearby, he thought it best to go where he always went when things got hairy: to see Chloe. He had told Raya about her before they arrived, and explained just why a seemingly-ordinary human was his best resource for getting to the bottom of things.<p>

"Hey, I've been trying to call you. Where have you been?" Chloe asked as they approached her desk.

"Racing around," Clark said, unable to stop himself from grinning at the thought, even under such stressful circumstances. "Chloe, this is Raya."

Chloe's face lit up in a smile as she greeted the other Kryptonian, who was studying her curiously. "Oh, Raya. Wow. It's nice to know something good finally came out of the Phantom Zone!"

"And she's not the only one," Clark said. "That Zoner you've been tracing showed up at the farm a little while ago. He tried to kill me, but he disappeared when he couldn't.

"What kind of disappeared?" Chloe asked. "Like, magical teleportation kind of disappeared?"

Clark shook his head. "No, just fast. And dangerous. He feeds off radioactive energy, and he can wield it, too. We need some help tracking him down before he kills again."

"Baern wouldn't have left the area with you still alive," Raya pointed out.

"There must be some other place he'd go- maybe a military installation the public doesn't know about?" Clark suggested.

Raya shrugged. "It's possible."

"Maybe we should ask Lois," he mused. "If anyone would know about a place like that, it's her."

"Who's Lois?" Raya asked.

"My cousin," Chloe said.

"Although how we'd explain it to her I have no idea," Clark said, ignoring the two women as he followed his thought through to its logical conclusion and rejected that idea. "No, asking Lois is probably a bad idea." Even a part of the truth was more than he should probably give her, considering how close she was already getting to Kal-El.

Chloe nodded thoughtfully. "This guy's been going after nuclear plants for his power source," she said. "If he needs more strength to fight you both-"

"It makes sense that he would go recharge," Raya finished for her.

Clark nodded.

"Kryptonians can withstand an amazing amount of nuclear fallout, a great deal more than most bipedal species," Raya informed Clark. "Jor-El hypothesized that, when under the influence of a yellow sun, we might even be able to absorb most types of nuclear radiation and process it the way we do this type of sunlight. But if Baern is able to gain enough power, it's possible he might be able to kill us before our metabolisms could adapt."

"So it's a double-edged sword," Clark guessed. "He could actually enhance our power, but if he gets too strong, he'll kill us."

Raya frowned nervously. "Exactly."

"Alright, I might be able to pull up a schematic of the local power grid," Chloe informed them, typing away. Within moments, which still seemed like an eternity to Clark, she let out an exclamation of triumph. "Got it. Alright, there are six nuclear plants in Kansas and Missouri within range of Metropolis."

"But how do we know which one he'll attack?" Raya asked.

At that moment, the lights began flickering, and Chloe's computer monitor scrambled briefly as the brownout continued.

"I'd say that's a pretty good clue," Clark said.

Chloe nodded. "Only two of the nuclear facilities provide power for Metropolis," she said. "Callaway in Missouri and Wolf Creek in Kansas."

"I'll take Callaway," Raya said.

"And I've got Wolf Creek," Clark replied immediately.

With a whoosh of displaced air that sent her stacks of papers flying, Chloe was left alone as the two Kryptonians zoomed away to go save the world.

* * *

><p>Ordinarily, Lois drove into the city to meet Oliver for their dates. In the beginning, he had picked her up at the Talon like a proper gentleman, but as they had progressed from "casual dating" to "exclusive dating" and it began to look like a real, proper relationship, she had insisted that it was a waste of gas- not to mention time- for him to drive the extra hour and a half (it was normally two hours, but when you drove like Oliver Queen, speed limits were more a suggestion) to pick her up at the door, and then do it again to drop her off.<p>

This afternoon, however, he had promised something extra special and insisted on picking her up. The romantic notion pleased her. The mystery? Not so much. Not knowing what he had planned was driving her up the wall.

"So, where're you taking me?" she asked.

He cast a brief look at her before turning his eyes back to the road, and grinned. "You'll have to wait and see."

She let out an irritated groan of disappointment, and tried to content herself with observing the scenery. They had just passed Emporia- a little city roughly the same size as Smallville- when an alert tone sounded on Oliver's phone.

He checked it, and his eyes grew large.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Um..." He fumbled briefly. "Traffic alert."

Lois was about as skeptical as it was possible to be. Oliver's phone had a fancy GPS system designed to make his traffic and weather updates more reliable. Maybe if they were closer to Metropolis, she'd have believed him, but out here in Coffey county where they hadn't passed another car in the last ten minutes, it seemed more than a little unlikely. But she took a deep breath and let it go.

A few bends in the road later, and they came across a police blockade. Oliver got out of the car and approached the officer standing by the roadblock. Lois resisted the temptation to get out and demand answers, letting Oliver handle this one. He spoke to the policewoman for a few moments before returning to the car.

"What's going on?" she asked.

He didn't reply, his lips drawn into a tight line as he put the car in reverse and backed away from the blockade.

"Ollie?"

He steered the car safely around the corner, then pulled off onto the shoulder. At last, he turned to look at her. "Look, this is important, alright? Stay here."

"Oliver, what's going on?" she demanded.

"_Stay here_," he insisted once more.

She didn't reply, but she gave a jerk of her head that might have been a nod.

"Alright, I'll be back."

Turning on his heel, he jogged away into the sparse patch of softwoods that lined this part of the road. Lois waited until he was almost- but not quite- out of sight, then pushed open the car door, grabbed her purse, and headed off after him.

Lois had been taught about tracking and stealth ops by a former covert ops specialist who had become a trainer for the Navy SEALs after retiring from fieldwork. He'd initially been reluctant to give private training to the daughter of a general, but Lois could be very persuasive even at the age of thirteen, and he had passed on a great deal of his knowledge to her. And one of the things he had impressed upon her quite thoroughly was to always wear practical shoes. It was a very good thing, she thought, that she was tall and Oliver wasn't _quite_ tall enough to wear heels with except on special occasions, because otherwise she would have considered breaking out her new spiky four-inch heels for their mystery date. Not at all practical for creeping through the undergrowth in an effort to find out why exactly her boyfriend was trying to sneak around a police blockade!

Trying, and succeeding quite thoroughly, actually. Where the hell did a billionaire CEO learn stealth maneuvers of the sort Ollie was using to evade detection by the brigade of police that were surrounding the area? Lois had to employ every trick she'd ever learned to keep from being spotted and she considered herself relatively accomplished. Though, the fact that she was wearing bright yellow probably wasn't helping.

Oliver led her a merry chase past the police lines and onto a narrow paved drive that branched off the main highway. As they approached a chain link fence, Lois caught sight of an unmistakeable sight- the twin cooling towers of a nuclear facility.

What the hell was Oliver doing sneaking into the Wolf Creek power plant- especially when the police were obviously trying to keep people away?

* * *

><p>Clark arrived at the Wolf Creek facility to find it in chaos. Piles of glowing ash marked where workers at the plant had gotten in Baern's way, and the plant was in a state of complete shutdown. As he pried open the blast doors to get in, he worried whether he might not be releasing radiation into the surrounding area, and sealed the door shut behind him again with his heat vision.<p>

He sped into the main reactor room. The place showed obvious evidence of a break-in by someone more than human, and the ordinary halogen bulbs gone out all over the plant, replaced with the flashing red of the security alert lights. Clark checked the readouts showing on the barely-functioning computer screen and was able to deduce that the plutonium rods had all been sucked dry. He swore softly. Baern had gotten away.

...Or had he?

A shout reached his ears. A shout in a desperately familiar female voice.

_Lois._

Without even pausing to wonder what the hell Lois was doing at Wolf Creek, he sped in the direction of her voice. He located her in the turbine room, where he was confronted with a horrifying sight. The scene appeared frozen with him still acting at super-speed, but it still made his stomach drop in fear.

Oliver lay unconscious on the floor, and Lois had flung herself over his prone form protectively, not that it was going to do either of them any good. Baern stood a few yards away, an intent look on his face and his arms raised, radioactive energy pouring from his palms in a deadly beam just feet from frying both Lois and Oliver to a crisp.

Clark shot across the room and threw himself between them, taking the energy burst straight to the chest. To his amazement, it stung, and he let out a short cry of pain. It wasn't as bad as Kryptonite- not even close- but it actually _hurt_. And then it was over. His shirt was seared away where he had taken the blast and the skin underneath was puckered and red.

Baern jerked his head in a twitchy movement, rolling his shoulders as he did so. "Kal-El," he greeted. "Nice to see ya. I will be seeing you again soon... once I've got the power I need to take my revenge for your old man locking me up."

And then he was gone in a burst of light. Clark stared after him, a sinking feeling in his gut.

From behind him, he heard Lois whisper, "Kal-El?"

Her hand reached out and touched his. Clark instinctively grasped her trembling fingers, unsure whether he was trying to comfort her or himself.

"Thank you," she said, in a stronger voice.

He felt a surge of mixed emotion. Affection for his friend, and the aftereffects of the sheer terror he had felt upon seeing her so close to death at Baern's hands, blended potently with a strange sort of pride. Most of all, though, he felt some overwhelming emotion he had no hope of identifying. Her hand was warm in his and somehow it felt like an acceptance of Kal-El. Even if she didn't know that her alien defender was also her country-boy friend, she had accepted this side of him, too. For that brief moment in time as he stood there with his back to her, holding her hand, he realized that he should have understood that from their conversation weeks before, but somehow it hadn't really sunk in until this moment.

And then the panic set in. He dropped her hand, and disappeared with a tremendous burst of super-speed.

* * *

><p>Lois paced around the clocktower penthouse, her cell phone in one hand, waiting impatiently as she was put on hold <em>yet again<em>.

Wolf Creek had been a disaster zone. The fire doors had come down just after she slipped inside, and alarms were going off all over the place. To say that Lois had gotten a bad feeling right then was an understatement. The last thing she wanted was to get trapped inside a nuclear facility in the middle of a meltdown, but by that point she'd made her choice and Lois Lane was nothing if not committed to seeing things through to the bitter end.

She had lost sight of Oliver after he'd entered the building ahead of her, but on a hunch she'd headed for the turbine room, and discovered him there, facing down some black kid with scary eyes and more game than Lois had initially imagined.

Oliver had tried to stop the guy from doing _something_, and with a wave of his hand, had sent Oliver flying across the room to land in a heap at Lois's feet. The man- if he _was_ a man- had gathered some kind of energy around his clenched fists, and Lois hadn't had time to think. She'd thrown herself on top of Oliver in an insane attempt to protect him from whatever was about to happen, and had looked up just in time to see a blast of energy headed her way... right before _he_ showed up._  
><em>

Kal-El.

Lois had heard the name issue from their attacker's lips, but even if she hadn't, she'd have guessed it was him anyway. He had put himself between them and taken the blast- Lois had heard him cry out in pain- and saved both herself and Oliver. The only ill effects she had suffered was slight exposure to radiation, which the hospital had easily counteracted with a pair of little blue pills, and Oliver had received a mild concussion and more than a few bruises. But Lois knew they were only alive because of Kal-El.

She had reached out and touched his hand. When she had looked up and realized she wasn't dead, it had been impossible to resist. It was hard to believe he'd actually been right there in the room with her, but there it was. The last time she'd been in a room with Kal-El, she'd been too close to unconsciousness to register more than a flash of color. This time, though, she'd been close enough to see him. She hadn't seen his face (not that she'd have been able to in the dim light even if he'd turned around), but she'd been able to tell that he was tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders.

She glanced down at her own hand. She swore she could still feel the warmth of Kal-El's fingers against her palm.

A tinny voice in her ear abruptly said, "_Thank you for holding...__"_

"Finally!" Lois exclaimed. "My name is Lois Lane and I-"

"_...Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available-_"

"Argh!" she groaned, and hung up the phone, hurling the offending piece of technology down onto Oliver's art noveau chaise lounge. Immediately, she began to pace again.

"Careful with the big cat/small cage routine or somebody might mistake you for a lioness and put you in a zoo," Oliver remarked, appearing in the doorway to the bedroom.

"And who's going to try it? You? I thought the doctor told you to take it easy for a couple hours," Lois said, glowering at him.

"And I thought I told you to stay in the car," he pointed out.

"And I'm not the one with a goose egg on my head, now am I?" she shot back.

"Fair enough. So what exactly did your phone do to offend you, anyway?"

Lois grunted in irritation. "It's less about the phone and more about the malfunctioning government answering service on the other end! I mean, come on! Six nuclear plants go offline within the space of twelve hours and not one single DWP guy is free to comment? I'd think people have a right to know why their power has shut off with no warning!"

Oliver smiled in amusement at her intensity. "I'd think you of all people would know that the government likes to keep its secrets, especially when anything even remotely radioactive is involved."

At that, she looked up at him. "And what about your secrets, Oliver?"

He turned pale, which surprised her. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

Lois was puzzled by his reaction, but went on with what she'd originally been aiming for. "I thought after what happened with Duncan last week that we'd agreed not to hide things from each other- at least, not important things."

"I, um-"

"What were you doing creeping into that facility anyway?"

A look of relief flashed across his face, so quickly Lois almost thought she had imagined it. But she hadn't, and she filed that detail away for later examination. "Um, when we hit the police barricade, you know? The officer told me something was going on at the plant. I guess I thought I could try to be a hero."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, and look where that got you."

He shrugged, wholly unabashed, and she laughed despite her mood.

* * *

><p>The Callaway facility had already been drained by the time Raya had reached it, and Clark had been unable to catch up to Baern when he left Wolf Creek. Clark found himself at a loss. He was certain, given the Zoner's vendetta against the House of El, that a confrontation would be inevitable, but how many lives would be lost in the struggle before they could defeat him? Raya, for her part, insisted on traveling to the Fortress the next afternoon.<p>

In one way, that might be a good thing, Clark supposed. At least if they confronted Baern here, he was less likely to kill innocents. But how they would lure him here, Clark wasn't sure. "The Fortress is dead," he told Raya sadly.

"But it's our only hope to defeat Baern," she insisted. Looking around sadly at the darkened crystals, she lamented, "This was all we had left of our home, Kal-El."

"And now it's gone, too," he said, guilt pulsing in every pore.

"It was more than that," she explained. "The Fortress was a storehouse for all the knowledge in the universe - at least all that we had. Twenty-eight galaxies worth of art, literature, scientific knowledge... how could this happen?"

Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel any worse... "I'm sorry. I don't know how to bring it back."

Raya looked at him accusingly. Ever since she'd arrived, she'd compared him to Jor-El and it had seemed like a positive thing. But now for the first time, she was looking at him and finding him wanting. "Your father wouldn't have given up so easily," she said in an accusatory tone to match her look.

"I haven't given up," he protested, and the thing was, it was true. "I just don't know what else to do. I've tried everything."

"Everything except the training your father wanted for you," she pointed out.

"If the Fortress were still active, I'd have started it already!" he insisted, and to his amazement, it was actually true. "But it's not, and the important thing right now is defeating Baern. I'm not sure it'll be that easy just to lure him here."

Raya shrugged. "I'm going to see if I can reroute whatever residual power is left- just enough to send out a signal to let Baern know you're here."

She depressed a few of the crystals, and moved a few into different slots. Clark marveled at the ease with which she manipulated the Fortress's main control board, as though it were something she'd been doing her whole life. Actually, he realized, that was exactly what it was. "I'm gonna see if I can reroute whatever residual power is left. Just enough to send out a signal... to let Baern know you're here," she explained as she worked.

The shrill ringing Clark was all too familiar with through his dealings with Jor-El filled the air. "That sound..." he murmured. "I've heard it before."

"Every House had a unique tone, a beacon to identify itself," she explained. "Baern's sure to recognize yours."

Clark felt again a stirring of amazement. So much of his Kryptonian heritage was still a mystery, and just twenty-four hours in Raya's company was revealing detail after detail that he had never imagined. A family and a world that had just been a miasmic concept before was beginning to become three-dimensional to him at long last. If they could survive this confrontation with Baern, he resolved to ask Raya to tell him everything she could about Krypton and the House of El.

The sound faded, and the already dark crystals of the Fortress dimmed still further.

Clark turned to address Raya, but whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat as Baern appeared behind her.

He gave the two Kryptonians a smug look, accompanied by an aggressive jerk of his chin. "So this is Jor-El's famed Fortress of Knowledge," he commented arrogantly. "I thought it'd be bigger."

"Doesn't matter, you won't be staying long," Clark said, instinctively stepping between Raya and the Zoner.

"Big talk, big man. I'm surprised you're still standing. I guess Jor-El was right about how the yellow sun affects you Kryptonian cockroaches," Baern taunted. "But I don't need solar batteries to be strong, and I'm all powered up and at the top of my game."

Without warning, he raised a hand and fired a blast of radiation in Clark's direction. For his part, Clark just barely managed to raise Raya's crystal in time to deflect the beam, and found himself hurled backwards into a huge column, which creaked ominously on the impact. He lost his grip on the crystal and it flew several yards away.

Baern smirked, raising his hands once more, surely intending to aim a killing blow. "Paying for the sins of your father can be a real bitch," he spat, smugness blending with anger in his voice.

Clark lunged desperately for the crystal at the same time that Raya stepped between Baern and himself, taking the blast for him just as he had done for Lois the day before, and buying him time to retrieve their best weapon. She let out a cry of pain and fell to her knees.

Fear for her swelled in Clark's heart, but he didn't have time to hesitate. He threw himself at Baern and pressed the crystal to his throat. With an unholy cry, the Phantom was drawn out of his host, and the young man who had been the unwilling vessel for Baern's vengeful spirit collapsed to the ground with a low groan. The crystal in his hand flared brightly with the power the Phantom had been carrying.

For a few seconds, Clark just took a moment to breath a deep sigh of relief. Then he turned, abruptly remembering Raya's fall. "Raya?" he gasped, running to her.

"Ow," she muttered, pushing herself up onto her knees.

Clark was horrified to see that she had a large circular burn on her chest. It was similar to the short-lived injury he had received at Baern's hand the afternoon before, but much more severe. The skin had been entirely burned away, leaving an angry welt of bubbling flesh that oozed small amounts of scarlet blood at the edges.

"You're hurt!" he exclaimed. "You need help."

"No," she replied, sounding strained. "I need sunlight. Help me outside, Kal-El."

He did as she asked, though there was some discrepancy about how exactly he was to go about that. He tried to pick her up and carry her outside the Fortress, but Raya pushed his hands away and said that her legs were perfectly healthy, she just needed a little assistance.

Once they negotiated their way to the entrance, Raya stepped outside into the bright sun of the Arctic summer. She tilted her face to the sky, eyes closing in relief. Before Clark's eyes, the wound began to heal. A soft glow of captive sunlight shot from the edges of her injury as Raya's skin knitted itself back together.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Clark was sitting in the loft, a copy of the Daily Planet in his hands. There were several articles throughout the paper regarding the spontaneous failure of several nuclear plants throughout the region over a period of less than a day, but one in particular interested him. The headline that graced the op-ed page read: <em>Authorities Still Keep Silent On Nuclear Shutdown<em>. The byline belonged to Lois.

The piece was very good, though Clark could see why it had been run on the op-ed page rather than the news section. It was a gentle, but very direct criticism of officials in both the government and the private sector for failing to release any information regarding the mysterious failures. Lois had reasoned that those citizens who had been directly- and adversely- affected by the resulting losses of power, not to mention the relatives of the still unaccounted-for plant workers, deserved to know what had happened.

"Anything interesting?" Raya asked.

Clark set the paper down and stood up to meet her.

"Your- Mrs. Kent offered me your bedroom," Raya informed him, "but I declined."

"Raya, you know you're welcome to stay here!" Clark protested. "You're the closest thing to family I've got left from Krypton."

She grinned. "I said I wouldn't take your room. I didn't say I wasn't staying. I think I'll just sleep while flying until we can find more permanent arrangements for me."

Clark actually felt his eyes bug out. "Sleep... while flying...?"

She lifted off from the floor, turned on her side, and propped her head up on her palm as though lying horizontally on a solid surface.

"I didn't know you could fly."

"Surely you're aware that Kryptonians have this power on Earth," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "I knew. I just didn't realize you could."

Raya nodded, returning to a vertical position and drifting back down to the floor. "And when the time is right, I'm sure you'll learn as well," she said in a reassuring tone that Clark didn't find reassuring in the slightest. "Just as you'll learn so much else when you begin your training."

"My training?" he asked. "But with the Fortress damaged..."

She smiled and held up the crystal Jor-El had entrusted to her. "Not for long," she informed him. "The Fortress is self-sustaining under most circumstances, but whatever happened damaged the crystals which recirculated power from its energy sources and drained them completely. However, a new burst of energy of sufficient power ought to be enough to recharge the crystals and restore the Fortress."

"And the energy Baern stole from the plutonium he drained-"

"-Should be just enough to do it!" Raya concluded triumphantly. "We haven't lost the last piece of our home after all."

Clark smiled, feeling that from now on he would truly value what he had in the Fortress. However, there was one thing that still bothered him about the whole business. "Raya... I'm sure I could learn a lot about my family from the information in the crystals, from my training. But you actually knew him. You actually worked with him and talked to him."

"You want me to tell you about your family," she guessed. "I promised you I would, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"And I will," she affirmed. "Perhaps tomorrow? It will be easier for us to stop the rest of the Phantoms if you're less afraid of your heritage."

Clark felt a surge of excitement at the prospect. "I'd like that," he said. "Raya... thank you."

She nodded. "Your father prevented my death; you restored me to life. Helping you understand where you come from is the least I can do. But for now, Kal-El, I am exhausted. Even with the power of the yellow sun, being nearly killed does take it out of you."

"Believe me, I know," Clark responded with a rueful look, thinking of his own multiple brushes with death.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and turned to leave the loft.

Clark sat down once more, and spent a few minutes wondering what it could be that Raya would tell him the next day. Everything he'd ever learned about Jor-El was a contradictory mishmash of random information that painted a very confusing and conflicted picture of his biological father. And as for Lara, his mother, he knew nothing whatsoever about her except for an overwhelming certainty that she had been _good_.

After all these years of wondering, at last he was going to get some answers. The thought made him jittery with anticipation, and he cast around for something to distract him or he'd never be able to get to sleep that night.

His eye landed on the newspaper he had discarded when Raya had appeared, and the name that stared up at him from the open page.

Lois. Oh boy, _that_ was a can of worms he had no idea how to handle. Lois had been on his mind more often lately than ever before. Worrying about her and her investigation into Kal-El had encroached on the time he might otherwise have spent thinking of Lana or pondering how to stop the Zoners, and it scared him how easily she could take over his preoccupations.

He had reflected on several previous occasions that he occasionally felt as though he was standing on some kind of precipice where Lois was concerned, and if he leaned forward just a little, gravity would take over. Up until a few months ago, he had always backed away from the edge. But then had come Zod and Dark Thursday and Lois had hurled herself into the fray to try to save the world by Lana's side, and he had reached out to grab her hand in a hospital room. That day something had changed. He hadn't known it at the time, but when she had grabbed his hand- no, grabbed _Kal-El's_ hand- the day before, it had abruptly reminded him forcibly of that moment. Now he had been forced to realize that something had shifted in the time since that moment.

He honestly had no idea what it meant, or what it was. But that wasn't really anything new. He'd never quite been able to define Lois's place in his life. She was his best friend's cousin; she was his annoying sometimes-roommate; she was a friend, but also not; she was a temptation of the carnal variety; she was the bane of his existence; she was his father's, and more recently his mother's employee; she was the toughest girl Clark had ever met. All of it blended into a bizarre, confusing mess of emotions regarding one Lois Lane. At times he was tempted to say she was his best friend, except that Chloe had laid claim to that title. And besides, there were plenty of times when he was pretty sure he wanted to wring her neck, and he was pretty sure that wasn't a best friend-type impulse.

There were two things he had always been certain of regarding Lois. The first was that he trusted her. Even stripped of all his humanity and left with only impulse and Kryptonian logic, he remembered trusting her implicitly, even when she was interfering with the mission he had been given, and that trust had not left when he had returned to his true self.

The second was that she made him feel... normal. All his life, next to no one had ever treated him as just a normal guy. Pete had come the closest, but Pete had also cracked under the pressure of keeping his secret and was now a virtual non-entity in Clark's life. His parents loved him, but their overwhelming concern with keeping him safe had made him feel anything but ordinary. Chloe, Lana, and Lex had all sensed from the beginning that there was something different about him, and it had bothered them all to the point of causing problems in their respective relationships with him at various times. His friends on the football team hadn't been particularly close, but even they had seemed to treat him a little differently from the other team members.

Lois, though, was in a category all to herself. If he thought back on their encounters over the years, she probably had more reason than anyone to suspect that there was something strange about him, yet she didn't seem to care. That was Lois all over, though. She had a way of just accepting people whole. Come as you are, no questions asked. It was a contradiction in her personality, actually. For a woman who couldn't tolerate letting a mystery go unexplored, she was remarkably good at just taking people at face value. Not that she was superficial- far from it. On those rare occasions when they really _talked_, her insight proved itself keen. She just didn't expect people to be anything other than who they were, and responded in kind by being true to herself.

She had taken Clark Kent whole with all his strangeness and treated him like a person rather than a code to be cracked. The fact that she appeared to be extending the same treatment to Kal-El was a throwing him for a loop. Her warm, slender fingers in his had felt like a reassurance.

And so here he was, on that precipice again, but this time he had a funny feeling that he'd hesitated too long. The option to back away from the ledge was vanishing quickly.


	10. 9: The House of El

**A/N-** This chapter was an absolute blast to write. I drew on a mixture of official, established Smallville canon, current runs of Supergirl and Action Comics (New 52 FTW!), and a few small hints of the novel "The Last Days of Krypton" to create my image of the home Kal-El never knew, as well as experimenting with a few ideas of my own that I think you'll find compelling. Strap in, this is gonna be a wild one.

* * *

><p>9. The House of El<p>

"_I wish that I could cry,  
>Fall upon my knees,<br>Find a way to lie  
>'Bout a home I'll never see...<em>"  
>-Five for Fighting<p>

* * *

><p>"I suppose to really understand your parents' story, you first will have to know a great deal more about Krypton than you do now," Raya said.<p>

They had raced down to South America in the early morning, and were sitting on a high peak in the spine of the Andes, Chile to one side of them and Argentina faraway to the other. An array of thick clouds veiled the dramatic plunging valleys beneath them, but up where they had roosted for the afternoon, the air was clear. The brilliant sunshine of the South American summer crowned Raya with a halo of gold and made Clark's dark locks gleam like polished granite.

Raya settled herself on an outcropping of rock in a lotus position, studying him intently. "How would you feel about a general history lesson?"

Clark nodded. "I want to know. I've been running from this for so long, but I'm tired of being afraid. Tell me everything."

She chuckled. "_Everything_ could take awhile. There will be plenty of time for an in-depth profile of the Kryptonian race when you start your training. For now, perhaps we had better stick with the basics?" she suggested wryly.

He smiled, despite the shiver that still ran through him at the thought of turning himself over to Jor-El for training.

Raya stared out over the clouds out of which a few more mountaintops burst, frowning faintly as she searched for the right place to begin. "Krypton is-" She caught herself. "-_was_ very different from Terra. Our star, Rao, was a red giant much larger and cooler than this yellow dwarf, and consequently our orbit took longer than this planet's. One Kryptonian sun-cycle was about two and a half of your Earth years. Also, Krypton's tilt on her axis was a much greater angle than Terra's." She indicated the degree with her hands as she spoke. "The planet did not wobble on her axis as Terra does, either. The result of this was that Krypton was divided quite sharply into two seasonal zones. The north of the planet lived in perennial twilight, only rarely reached by the light of Rao. It was a land of ice and snow and huge spires and cities of crystal that glittered in the starlight.

"Because of the near-constant sunlight, the southern continent was warmer, and the gravitational effects of Rao caused a large amount of volcanic activity, which produced fertile soil rather than the crystal formations of the north. We had names for these two continents, but they don't really translate into any of humanity's languages. The Kryptonian names were Keyi for the northern continent and Fanali for the south."

Raya's words were pedantic, but the wistfulness with which she delivered them lent them a heartrendingly lyrical quality. As she continued, it was more clear to Clark than ever before that his fellow Kryptonian had poetry in her soul. "It was a world of extremes, the deep blue of the Keyi twilight and the scarlet sunshine of Fanali's eternal summer. Fire and ice in equal measure, and Jor-El used to say that the people were even more so. For millennia, Kryptonians have been a people of science and logic, ruled by reason and gentled by it, but we weren't always so precise. There is- was-" She hesitated, then continued in a voice full of conviction: "No, _still is_ something wild and untameable in the Kryptonian spirit. You've felt it, haven't you? That thrum that awakens in your belly, something fierce and passionate and proud that whispers to you, "Go on, go on, don't hesitate..." Of all the species across the 28 known galaxies, and of those, specifically the bipedal humanoids, the only one we ever encountered which possessed that exact same surge of fire and wildness was these Terrans. Honestly, I think that must be why Jor-El loved this world so well. It's a trait that produces both incredible heroes and terrible villains in both species. However, it was always a little closer to the surface in Kryptonians."

Clark nodded his understanding. He did indeed know what it was that she meant. He had felt exactly what she described. It had burned brightly through his veins with every heartbeat at his best and at his worst.

Raya smiled to herself and seemed to make a conscious effort to draw herself back to the body of her narrative after having been carried away by her tangent.

"Krypton's two land-masses were inhabited by two very different cultures," she said. "Fanali was inhabited primarily by what Terrans would call 'farmers.' There were no great cities, no exotic fashions or grand pretensions. Each House cultivated the land in their own way, so to speak. They were a quieter people, you might say, though no less cunning for it. In the north, in Keyi, everything was a spectacle, in contrast. It was a world of incredible inventions and high arts and everything bearing a hard edge. Krypton was, needless to say, home to an extremely dichotic civilization," she remarked dryly. Then, with a sigh, she added, "In the end, that was probably our downfall. You see, our two societies had very little contact with each other except for the exchange of goods, and neither truly understood the other's ways. I believe that a similar phenomenon is fairly common on this planet, but I doubt it has ever been so dramatic a contrast as it was on Krypton. Neither culture was better or worse than the other, but neither of them could understand that. Maybe eons ago, when Kryptonian civilization was young, the polarization of our people was necessary for survival, but in our twilight days it only hastened our end."

"Which were you from?" Clark asked, fascinated by this image Raya was painting of a flawed, spectacular, doomed people, to which somehow he belonged.

"Both," she replied. She smiled sadly, "Neither. I was born Kivana Lei-Ra of Fanali, and I never really was accepted when I moved up north. And when push came to shove, I threw my lot in with Jor-El, and my House rejected me for it. My name was stricken from the family records, so I took a new one. Raya has always suited me better than Kivana."

"I'm sorry," Clark said sympathetically.

She shook her head. "Don't be. It was a very long time ago, and I knew the consequences of my choice when I made it."

"So how did you end up as my father's assistant if you were born in the other hemisphere?" he asked.

Raya tucked a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear. "I was the equivalent of twelve Terran years old when I first met your father," she said. "He came with a scientific team from the great city of Kandor, who were testing the acidity of the soil in order to manufacture fertilizer better suited to our crops. He was very young, only about your age, but he was permitted to go along because even so young, Jor-El had a mind like no other. He truly was Krypton's greatest genius, and everyone knew it, himself included. It made him arrogant, I'm afraid, but I didn't know that, then. I wasn't even four sun-cycles old and I was wholly infatuated with him. What did I know? I was young, he was a handsome Kandorian, and I suppose I hero-worshipped him and mistook it for love. That was when I first decided that when I reached latency, I would follow him to Keyi."

"Latency?" Clark questioned.

Raya sighed. "You really don't know much about our people, do you? The Kryptonian life cycle is very different from the Terran one. After adolescence, Kryptonians enter a latency period that may begin anywhere from 8 sun cycles to 11 sun cycles old, depending on the developmental rate of the individual. Latency is... well, I suppose you could describe it as a pause in the aging process. It typically lasts about fifty sun-cycles, more or less, before a natural, gradual physical aging begins again."

"Fifty-? But that would be 150 Earth years!" Clark exclaimed.

Raya shrugged. "At least compared to Terrans, Kryptonians are a long-lived people. We were a Level 8 civilization, after all."

"Level 8?"

Raya couldn't restrain a roll of her eyes at his ignorance. "For perspective, this Earth you're so fond of has only within the last two or three hundred years been elevated to Level 3 status."

Clark could only sit there and try to grasp the implications of that piece of information.

With a turn of phrase that abruptly reminded him of Lois, Raya asked, "Now that we've covered Biology 101 and intergalactic foreign policy, may we return to the point, please?"

Clark nodded.

"It wasn't long after the research trip to Fanali that your grandfather, Yar-El, sent Jor-El to Earth as a rite of passage. The rumors had it that he wanted his younger son to learn the humility he had never been able to teach the elder one."

"Jor-El had a brother?"

Raya's expression grew dimmer. "Yes. Zor-El, three cycles older than Jor-El. He was never his brothers equal, but he had deluded himself into believing he was. The relationship between the two was always... complicated."

"I can imagine," Clark remarked.

"Anyway, while Jor-El was on Earth, he met and fell in love with a young human woman. I saw a hologram of her once, and she bore a remarkable resemblance to the girl who put those scars on _your_ heart, Kal-El," she added knowingly.

"I learned that much," he said. "She was Lana's great-aunt."

"Yes, I thought she might be. Her death nearly destroyed Jor-El. When he returned to Krypton, he was only a ghost of the young man he had been when he left. His arrogance was gone, but so was his spirit. I suppose in a twisted way, Yar-El achieved his goal." She shook her head sadly, staring off to the horizon. "After that, he finally gave up roaming all over Krypton in search of new adventures. He went into his lab and he worked and that was more or less his whole life for several cycles. He almost never went out in public and when he did, he earned a reputation for being surly. But his work was good and his discoveries saved thousands of lives, so people left him alone and respected him from a safe distance. I suppose Earth people might have called him an "absent-minded professor" or something of the kind.

"It was about this time that I became his assistant. I had learned biomechanical programming for that express purpose. I- well-" At this, she blushed and ruefully chuckled. "This is the embarrassing part. Please keep in mind that I _was_ very young still, barely out of adolescence, and I was raised in the Fanali culture where girlish notions of romance were encouraged among the young. It's humiliating to recall now, but I thought that if he could just see me again, he would remember me and fall in love with me, instead. Obviously that was not the case, but he did take me on as his assistant. He was rather indifferent about it, actually. He had reached a point in his research when he could no longer do without an assistant, so he hired one. I was the first available choice and, as he put it, was "not loud or brunette," so he hired me. And so I worked with him- well, mostly I made sure he remembered to eat and actually leave the lab sometimes instead of just sleeping on his work bench when he couldn't stay awake any longer."

Clark's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound like the Jor-El I know."

"Kal-El," Raya said with exaggerated patience, "You don't _know_ Jor-El. All you've ever known is the fading echo of a man who's been dead a long time." A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "Looking back, at that time I suppose I didn't really know Jor-El either. I don't think even he knew who Jor-El was, then. He never said as much, but I suspect he felt that he'd known the great love of his life and lost her, and all that was left for him was to succumb to the life of a scientist that had been preordained for him from the first moment his singular intelligence was discovered."

The similarity to Clark's own life was abruptly so compelling that he had to consciously make himself breathe. Even actively seeing Jor-El's memories of Smallville and Louise had not been enough to alter his perception of him. But now, for the first time, his father felt real to him. As Raya's description of Jor-El's grief and resignation sank in, he abruptly stopped being a distant, powerful herald of all the things Clark was afraid to face and became a man of flesh and blood at last. If he hadn't been eager to hear the story of his family already, now he certainly would have been.

It seemed to Clark as though which he could better understand his own life. "But that wasn't his destiny, was it?" he asked desperately.

Raya shrugged. "Yes and no. Your mother used to say that Jor-El's calling was to bottle up truth and discover the secrets of the universe in the fault of a crystal. His work was certainly incredible and very important, but it wasn't all there was to his life, either. He didn't realize it for a very long time, but-"

"But he met my mother?" Clark prompted.

"Yes, I'm coming to that. As I was saying, I endeavored to make myself indispensable to your father. I suppose I thought that if I engrained myself deeply enough in his life, he'd just marry me out of convenience. It would have been a very unequal match, the crown jewel of Krypton's intelligentsia and the girl from the south who fancied herself clever, but I knew Jor-El wouldn't care- he never bothered much about the social norms- and I was willing to take anything he was willing to give me." Abruptly, her face shifted from mild self-recrimination to somber concern. "While I'm thinking of it, Kal-El, I think I should advise you to be careful with your friend, the fair one. What's her name? Chloe? She looks at you the same way I used to look at your father."

Clark immediately protested. "No, Chloe and I are just friends-"

"And if you had ever asked Jor-El, he would have said I was just his assistant," Raya said forcefully. "Believe me, Chloe cares more than you know. It's entirely possible that even she doesn't know what she's doing to herself, but one way or another, no good can come of it. If I hadn't reclaimed my heart, I could have done irreparable harm."

"How _did_ you get over it?" Clark asked curiously. He thought of the deep pain he still suffered watching Lana and Lex together, and of how at times he had thought he would give anything just to quit loving Lana so it wouldn't hurt anymore. Could love really just be turned off like that? He didn't think it worked that way for humans, but maybe Kryptonians were a different matter.

Raya played with the ends of her hair in an unconscious nervous gesture. "When Jor-El met your mother, the jealousy ate me up. It hurt, and I realized that I either had to give him up or destroy myself holding on too tightly to something that was never mine to begin with. I made a conscious choice to end my feelings for him."

"That easy?" Clark asked, amazed.

"No," she replied. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm glad I did. For a long time, your father has been nothing more than a dear friend and the man who gave me the chance to do something truly important with my life. It's a far better thing for me to have had him as my friend than to have pined away, silently resenting his wife. Besides," she added with a twinkle in her eye that Clark didn't understand, "it wouldn't have done for a southern girl to hate Lara Lor-Van."

"What do you mean by that?"

Raya laughed low in her throat. "Well, that's a whole other story unto itself. I think you'll like this part. But first, a little background." Her eyes twinkled and her voice took on a dramatic, resonant quality like one recounting a grand legend known by heart.

"From birth, Lara seemed destined for greatness. For a start, she was a twin. Twins were very rare on Krypton, so when a pair was born it was cause for a great deal of talk, particularly in Keyi. Almost as important, these twin girls were born into the House of Van. That house wasn't as legendary or as powerful as the Houses of El and Frey, but it was a prosperous and wealthy family, which additionally had the distinction of being renowned for its members linguistic talents. It was clear right from the beginning that both Lara and her sister Zara had inherited this gift of their House, though in very different ways. Zara had a way of twisting words that made her a rather talented gossip, but Lara was something else again. She could pick up languages faster than blinking, and she could tell a story like no one else, but that was all incidental. What really made Lara special was her courage. The bravest woman on Krypton, they called her. Most of the time she was a calm, sweet-tempered woman, until she was provoked. Then she lashed back with all the ferocity of a flame dragon, which was good for her because that was how she made her name."

"A flame dragon?" Clark asked.

"They were monstrous creatures that lived in the lava pits and the firefalls near the pole. They bore a great resemblance to some of the dragons that populate Earth-lore, so I suspect that those legends may have been planted in the minds of early Terrans by Kryptonians visiting Earth. They were terrible beasts, with thick hides and fiery breath that could sear a man's flesh from yards away. For the most part, they kept to themselves unless provoked, but when I was five cycles old, a particularly large and uncommonly vicious specimen began attacking almost every day. It slaughtered whole families, razed agro-domes to the ground, rendered fields worthless for cultivation. They knew what was happening up north, of course, but it wasn't as though they could do anything. Our weapons were worthless and the Phantom Zone hadn't been invented yet. We were helpless, essentially. All you could do was pray that it wasn't coming after your House next.

"And then one day, the beast was ravaging a settlement on the twelfth parallel and suddenly there she was. This little slip of a thing dressed in ceremonial armor, armed with nothing but a crystal sword and sheer guts. Legend has it she threw herself between the flame-dragon and the fleeing members of the House of Vu, using herself as a living shield to buy them time to escape. She fought the monster singlehanded. The stories said it was a battle the likes of which Krypton had never seen, and I don't doubt that it was. In the end, she was victorious. The fireball the creature made as it died engulfed the entire field and only the armor she wore saved her from incineration, but she killed the beast. It was ingenious, really. Kryptonians had become so reliant on energy weapons that the idea of using crystal to penetrate a dragon's obsidian hide wouldn't even have occurred to most people, and of those who _did_ imagine such a thing, only Lara had the sheer moxy- or maybe it was stupidity- to actually try it.

"From that day on, your mother was Krypton's heroine. No older than seventeen in Terran years and she'd already made her stamp on history. She became the hit of the social scene, which of course benefitted her sister. Zara was life-bonded with a wealthy young son of the House of Frey within the year, and she became what you might call a socialite. She had influence with all the right people and was on informal terms with several prominent members of the Council of Fate- that was Krypton's ruling body. To her credit, she was never jealous of her sister's fame. Zara wasn't made to be the stuff of legends and she knew it and she didn't mind."

Clark was absolutely stunned. Ever since Dr. Garner's memory well had allowed him to access his one and only recollection of his mother, he had had questions about the enigmatic Lara that no one could answer for him. Now at last he was being given insight into his mother's life and the truth was more incredible than anything he ever could have guessed. He had known that the mother he as raised by was one of the strongest people he would ever be fortunate enough to meet, but he had never imagined that the mother who bore him was every bit as incredible, if not more so.

Before he could find the words to express his awe, Raya continued: "Three cycles later, war broke out between the two continents. Inevitable, I suppose, given the tension that had been building up for centuries at least, but somehow still surprising. Kryptonians did not often go to war. I was already working with Jor-El then, and when my father asked me to return to my home to fight alongside my people-"

"You refused."

Raya nodded. "That was why I was disowned. It was painful, but I had made my choice."

"What was the war about?"

"Nothing, as all wars are," Raya said dryly. "I suppose it was political. Fanali wanted more seats on the Council, Keyi was tired of paying exorbitant prices on essential goods, neither society liked the other very much, and it all just exploded. It happens on this world frequently enough, though on a much smaller scale."

Thinking of the civil wars raging in faraway parts of the world at that very moment, Clark couldn't help but nod his agreement.

"When it became clear that this was serious, everyone half expected Lara Lor-Van to take up arms again and single-handedly put a stop to the fighting, but she didn't. She had been built up to such godlike proportions that people actually believed she could do it. But of course she couldn't. She was only one woman, after all, no matter how legendary. She tried, though. She visited leaders, both civil and military, on both sides of the conflict, pleading with them to lay down arms and restore peace, but it was worthless. Kryptonians are known for being stubborn," she added with a bitter smirk. "Your father and I tried our best as well. The technology we developed helped save many lives, and I'm proud of that, but the Council, fractured as it was, wanted more. The corrupted one of Jor-El's genetic experiments for use in the event of a doomsday scenario- and with the way the war was going that was a real possibility. Jor-El defied them and halted the experiment. He said it was an abomination and it had to be stopped. After the war was over the Council took him to task for it. He would have been executed for treason if his best friend- actually, his only friend, myself excepted- Major Zod, had not intervened."

"Zod?" Clark asked, startled by the grimly familiar name.

Raya grimaced. "Alongside Jor-El and Lara, Dru-Zod was one of Krypton's greatest heroes, which made his eventual betrayal sting all the more."

"Zod and my father were friends?" he asked, appalled.

"The very best," she confirmed. "Two young, handsome heroes of the people, the man of science and the man of strategy, how could they help but become friends? Jor-El was revered, Dru-Zod was beloved, and fate forced them into acquaintance and eventually a close friendship. But somewhere along the way, Zod turned his back on Jor-El and the rest of Krypton. He destroyed our people's faith in the goodness of their heroes, which is probably why no one believed Jor-El when he warned that our planet was doomed."

"That's horrible," Clark said.

Raya nodded. "It was. But at the time of the Great War, Zod was only a brilliant tactician, whose courage and skill spared hundreds of lives that would otherwise have been lost. He was the last heir to a dying House, and his wife and son were lost near the end of the war, which I imagine probably had something to do with his fall. But this isn't about Zod, though he certainly had his hand in events." She sighed. "In the final days of the conflict, most of the fighting was centered around Kandor. Things came to a head when the southern army fired a weapon at the city that was able to level Kandor in a single blast." Raya's knuckles were white as her hands clenched on her knees, but her voice was steady. "In a single instant, millions of Kryptonians were vaporized where they stood."

"Like a nuclear bomb," Clark murmured, feeling his heart ache for the people who had been _his_ people.

"Yes," Raya concurred. "Although considerably less messy. Kryptonian technology, fortunately, was far more advanced than simple nuclear fission. If we had poisoned our world with radiation, that would have been the end of Krypton. Our people may be resistant to radiation, but many other species in the ecosystem were not, and our world would have surely perished then. But at least we knew better than that." She shook her head sadly.

For a moment, both of them were silent, contemplating the triumphs and failures of a home they could never return to.

Then Raya straightened again and continued: "Three days after the razing of Kandor, your mother stood in the ashes of our greatest city and she spoke from her heart. This time, though, she didn't waste her words on politicians and generals who weren't going to listen even to Lara Lor-Van. With her sister's help, she accessed the communications mainframe so that her words would travel all around the world, and she addressed the people of Krypton. You should have heard her speech that day, Kal-El. Lara always had a way with words, but that day she pierced the very heart of Krypton. She made the world's grief for Kandor into a rallying cry for peace, and forced us to look past our mistrust, our abuses, our wounded pride, to remember that we were all Kryptonian, the children of Rao, brothers and sisters despite our foolish quarrels. She begged us to remember that our differences could be used to enrich Krypton rather than destroy it. It was a plea for peace like no one had ever made before, and it came at a time when our world was sick at heart of war. That day, both armies laid down their weapons and called for armistice."

"Wow."

"For all her courage, your mother was a very gentle soul. I have no doubt it broke her heart to watch our people tearing themselves apart, and the sincerity of her desire for peace gave her the power to make it happen."

Clark didn't know it, but the awe he was feeling was visible on his face. "You know, I never imagined-"

"You never imagined that Kryptonians could be capable of such goodness as well as such evil?" Raya guessed wisely.

He gaped at her. "How did you know?"

Raya smiled. "From the way you speak, it's clear that your experiences with fellow Kryptonians have not been pleasant ones. You need to understand right now that we weren't a perfect people, but we were much better than you may have been led to believe."

"I'm starting to see that," Clark remarked.

"Our people live on only through us," she admonished. "Kryptonians only become monsters if you think of them that way."

Clark looked, shame-faced, at the stony ground upon which he sat. "It's just, ever since I opened my ship and read the message Jor-El left for me-"

"What message?" she asked sharply.

"The message that told me I was sent to Earth to be a conqueror," Clark replied.

Raya's brow furrowed in confusion. "What _exactly_ did it say?" she asked.

Using his heat vision, Clark burned the symbols that had been repeated inside the cradle of his ship into a nearby slab of granite. It wasn't difficult. He had the message memorized and had for years. _On this third planet from this star, Sol, you will be a god among men. They are a flawed race. Rule them with strength, my son. That is where your greatness lies._

Raya's eyes widened. "I didn't know he'd included a message like this. But it's obvious he didn't have Lara look it over for him."

"What do you mean?"

"Your father was a brilliant man, but he didn't have verbal skill or the sociocultural frame of reference that your mother did," Raya explained. "You'll be familiar, I'm sure, with the concept of things being "lost in translation?""

Clark nodded.

"Your father was a utilitarian thinker. It wouldn't have occurred to him that although he could design a program to embed understanding of the Kryptonian language in your mind, he couldn't also imbue you with an awareness of our people's society the same way. You don't have any cultural context. You see this symbol, here?" She pointed to the symbol that meant 'to rule.' "I imagine you're interpreting it as implying domination or conquering, but if you had been raised surrounded by Kryptonian culture, you'd understand that this particular variation on that symbol connotes guidance or mentoring rather than tyranny."

The whole conversation had been revelation after revelation for Clark, but this was the most potent thing Raya had yet told him. All these years, all this fear and the mistrust of Jor-El that had sent him hurtling into disaster time and time again, had all been because... of a bad translation? He stared hard at the ground once more, fingers digging unconsciously into the rock beneath them, crushing it to powder in his hands.

Raya floated over to him without changing her posture, and laid a hand on his arm. "Kal-El, you shouldn't feel guilty for the disrespect you've shown your heritage in the past. You've been afraid, and it's not your fault."

"But it is, isn't it," he responded bitterly. "If I had trusted my biological father more, my human one might still be alive."

Raya shook her head. "We cannot change the past. You were young, and you didn't know any better- how could you have? Don't blame yourself."

Clark didn't think she was exactly right about that, because he'd spent that whole period in his life insisting that he was an adult, capable of making adult decisions about how to handle Jor-El, and ought to take responsibility for the consequences of his bad choices, but he decided to let it go. He nodded as though agreeing with her. "I think I'd like to hear the rest of the story," he told her. "How did my parents meet?"

Raya smiled pityingly, as though she guessed exactly what he was doing, but she didn't comment on it. "That came after the war. Your aunt Zara, as I said, bonded well and very young, but Lara presented something of a problem. Lor-Van and Ora wished their other daughter to be bonded as well, but she had other ideas. She still felt she had something important to accomplish, even after saving Fanali and helping to bring the great war to an end, and feared she wouldn't be able to if she were burdened with a husband. But Lor-Van was as stubborn as ever a Kryptonian could be, and eventually Lara gave in. Through a process of gene-matching, used particularly among the older Houses to determine genetic compatibility between mates, it was indicated that she ought to be-"

"Bonded with Jor-El," Clark guessed.

"Actually, no," Raya said, to his surprise. "It was Zor-El your mother was initially matched with."

"My uncle?"

"Yes. It was quite the coup for Lor-Van, I imagine, though I was never very good at interpreting all the social machinations the Keyians were so fond of. To have a daughter married into each of the two most powerful Houses on Krypton could only have been a good thing for the House of Van."

Clark's brow furrowed. "But if my mother was matched to Zor-El, how...?"

Raya grinned. "A courtship between Zor-El and your mother was tentatively begun. Lara still wasn't too pleased with the arrangement, but she went along with it to please her father. She and Zor-El got along tolerably well, and from what I understand, it was considered an excellent match. And then... then Yar-El and your grandmother, Charys, held a party to introduce her to the other members of the House of El as their eldest son's future mate, and that was the night she met your father."

"It sounds like a soap opera," Clark muttered under his breath.

"A what?" Raya asked, confused.

"Never mind," he said. "It's not important."

She brushed off his comment with a shrug of her shoulders. "Now, you have to understand that at this point in time, Jor-El was still very isolated. His friendship with Major Zod had collapsed, he lived only for his work, and the only person he associated with regularly was... well, me. I think he had recovered from the wound of losing Louise by then, but he had lived for so long as just the shell of a man that he didn't really know how to be anything else. He brought me along that night, mostly because Yar-El told him that he had better not show up alone and embarrass his family, so I was there to witness the first time he met your mother."

"What happened?" Clark asked. He wondered if it had been love at first sight for his father as it had been with himself for Lana.

"The party was a rousing success, except for one thing: Jor-El got into a screaming match with the guest of honor. Namely, your mother."

Clark's eyes widened. "What?"

"He stormed out, she was furious, your grandparents were mortified... your aunt Zara thought it was fantastic," Raya said, a smirk playing about her lips. "I never knew what it was that set them to arguing, but they certainly had a way of getting under each others' skin. I didn't think about it at the time, but that was the first time- his passionate objection to the cloning project aside- that he had showed any real emotion in all the cycles I had worked with him. In the weeks that followed that night, he took every opportunity to rail about the conceited Lara Lor-Van, and whenever they met, their encounters were... heated, to say the least."

"But if they were constantly arguing, then how-?"

"How did they end up bonded?" Raya finished for him. "The Els are nothing if not passionate. Your father could never have loved a woman around whom he would have to restrain the force of his personality, because he could never have respected her as a true equal. For months they sniped at each other every time they came into contact, and at first I thought he hated her, but really he was falling in love with her and didn't even know it. I remember the day he figured it out. I had realized it sooner. I'd watched them together and knew that if he didn't love her he wouldn't care so much what she thought of him. I was trying to force myself to come to terms with what that meant for me and the way I felt for him. The day before the bonding ceremony would have taken place between Lara and Zor-El, I found your father in his laboratory, in a rage. He'd finally figured out what I'd known all along, and he thought he'd lost his chance to love for a second time. I think he might have destroyed the entire lab if I hadn't stopped him. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I told him to go to her while he still had a chance. To tell you the truth, I think that was the moment I truly took back my heart."

"So she married my father instead?" Clark guessed.

Raya nodded. "I don't know what happened after he left the lab that night, but the next day, he and your mother were together and the intended bonding ceremony was canceled."

"I can't imagine my uncle-" He faltered a little at describing as his uncle a man whose existence he'd never known of before today, but that was, in fact, his relationship with Zor-El. "-Was particularly pleased by that."

She shook her head, and her expression was strange. She was smirking as though in amusement, but there was something rather bitter behind her eyes. "No, he wasn't. He did love Lara. Perhaps too much- or simply too blindly- to accept that she had never and would never love him in return. Your father and his elder brother never did get along too well, as I said, but Zor-El's anger over Lara choosing Jor-El over him drove a permanent wedge between them. It certainly didn't help that when your parents were bonded, Zor-El put in an impromptu appearance and made a scene."

"Family dysfunction at it's finest," Clark observed.

Raya nodded, her expression wry. "Not long afterward, Zor-El settled for a daughter of the House of La. Alura Kar-La was her name. I never knew her, but from what your mother told me, she was a sweet woman. She didn't deserve her husband's scorn, but that was what she was given."

She was silent for a minute, shaking her head in resigned disapproval, not that it did anyone any good now. Clark chose this moment to ask a question that had been bothering him for some time during the course of Raya's narrative: "There's still something I don't understand. If my parents were so in love and as right for each other as you say, why weren't they just matched together to begin with?"

"Lara and Zor-El were more biologically compatible," she explained. "She and Jor-El may have been a better emotional match by far, but insofar as genetic harmony was concerned, the elder brother would have been the logical choice. And particularly in the aftermath of a war which decimated Krypton's population on both continents, priority was given to couples with the highest chances of reproductive success."

"That's..."

"Cold? Clinical?" she suggested, guessing the trend in his thoughts. "Yes, but that is what it means to be Kryptonian. Logic and passion constantly at war with each other. You didn't think it was a trait unique only to yourself, did you?"

Privately, Clark thought that in his own case, he took after both his parents: passion won nearly every time. More often than not it got him in trouble, but he didn't think he would change that if he could, and he appreciated that innate tendency all the more now that he was beginning to understand where it came from.

Raya, meanwhile, was continuing her story, oblivious to his musings. "Zor-El and Alura went on to give birth to a daughter. Your cousin, Kara. She worshipped your mother," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Not that there were many who didn't by that time, but right from the time she could walk, Kara followed her everywhere. I think having her around was both a blessing and a curse for your mother; a curse because Kara was a reminder that she and Jor-El were still unable to conceive although they desperately wanted a child, and a blessing because Lara couldn't have asked for a better shadow to keep her company."

"I never knew I had a cousin," Clark said, and it was an expression of wonder. His family on Krypton hadn't just consisted of a faceless, vaguely threatening father and an enigmatic mother. He had had cousins, uncles and aunts, grandparents, friends of the family like Raya... a whole complex web of people who had once upon a time been as real and alive as any of his human friends and family.

"Yes," Raya said. "Actually, I believe it was Kara who named you. By the time you were born, Krypton was already entering its final days, and the House of El realized it, even if no one else wanted to accept it. Kara suggested calling you Kal so that no matter what else happened in your life your name, at least, would always be a reminder of home."

Clark was puzzled. "What does it mean? My name, I mean."

She tilted her head to one side as she thought it over. "That's... hard. It's another name that doesn't really translate well to Earth languages. The meaning of the name is something like "star," but it can also mean "universe" or "sky." I suppose Kara was thinking of how far from home you'd be if the destruction we feared came to pass."

It was a consideration that struck Clark to the core. Before he'd even been born, he'd had a cousin who had loved him enough to try to preserve a piece of his home for him in his very name. "I think I would have liked to meet her," he said quietly, almost to himself. "How old was she?"

"Sixteen, in human measurements, when Krypton was destroyed," she answered.

He felt like crying. "How did it happen?" he asked.

Raya didn't need to ask what he meant. "I told you Dru-Zod turned against the people," she said. "He craved power above all else, and eventually became determined to win it for himself at any cost. Years after the great war, but before you were born, he staged a rebellion. He had spent the intervening time slowly securing the blind faith of an army of followers, people who had served under him before and who would be loyal to the death, disregarding logic and all reason in favor of the will of Zod. Fanalian, Keyian, it did not matter. He promised a future free of the tyranny of the Council, and would take any who would bear his mark. And when the time was right and his army was ready, he struck without warning at the new capitol of Argo City."

Although Raya had been able to speak of the first terrible conflict with poise, if not ease, as she described Zod's war on the Council her voice wavered and her eyes became bright. She pressed onward, describing the horrors of that final war with visceral detail that clearly indicated firsthand experience of the battles she described, and though her tears did not spill from her eyes, it was plain that she was barely keeping her composure.

"We did all we could," she said shakily. "Your father and I and a few others of Krypton's brightest lights did everything possible to stop him, and in the end we did, in a manner of speaking. Zod was captured and exiled to the Phantom Zone, but it was too late. I never knew exactly what it was he had done- I suspect Jor-El might have but he didn't share it with me- but Zod had developed some kind of weapon that he launched into the heart of Rao. I think it was an attempt to alter our star's properties to mimic those of a yellow dwarf like Sol, or maybe he was just insane and wanted to cause a supernova- which is exactly what came of his actions. Jor-El tried to warn the people, to initiate an evacuation to Earth or Almerac or some other planet with an atmosphere capable of sustaining us, but Zod's betrayal was still too fresh in the minds of Krypton's survivors and no one was willing to put their faith in another hero of the people. Even Lara, even with her enchanting words and her fierce spirit and her innocent soul, could not persuade anyone to take a risk and save themselves."

She closed her eyes and a single tear tracked its way down her cheek. She let it fall, and continued, lids still hiding her blue eyes. "And since he couldn't preserve our species, Jor-El did all that he could. In the last days of Krypton, he used the last functioning time portal to leave the Stones of Knowledge- the building blocks of the Fortress- where you and you alone would be able to retrieve them, and arranged to save both you and myself."

"And he stayed behind," Clark continued, remembering what she had told him before. "Still trying to save our home."

Raya nodded, eyes open again. "I remember him pleading with Lara, begging her to accompany me into the Zone to save herself, but she wouldn't leave him. She preferred to die by his side than to live without him, especially because she would be trapped in the Zone and unable to be with you as you grew up." She lapsed into silence, pensive and still. Perhaps in her mind she was still lost on a dying world, or wandering the Phantom Zone's eternal wasteland.

Clark stared down at his hands, fingers clenched over his knees, not really willing to move or break the stillness with words. What would that be like, he wondered, to love someone so much that you would rather die than live without them? He had loved Lana for what seemed like his whole life, and he would gladly die to save her life if that was what was asked of him, but if she were killed and there was nothing he could do to stop it, no time-travel crystals or phone calls from the future, would he prefer to die rather than be without her? He didn't think so. Sometimes he feared he would always helplessly love her and suffer from watching her choose other men again and again, but his life could go on without her. Neither of his parents' relationships had worked that way, he knew. Lara had stayed with Jor-El despite knowing it meant almost certain death. Martha, he knew, had almost been destroyed by losing Jonathan. He was pretty sure that the only thing that had kept her sane in the weeks and months after his father's death was that she felt an obligation to be there for his sake. She had gotten better as time wore by, and he understood that, because he experienced it himself; the pain of losing his dad was still there, and it still hurt every damn bit as much as it had the very first day, but as time went by he just didn't think about it as much. He knew it must be the same for his mother.

That wasn't all Raya's narrative had given him to think about. He felt so many things, and he knew it would take him a long time to sort it all out within himself. The feeling that rose most clearly to the surface, however, was shame. He had let fear dictate his life for so long. Fear of Jor-El, fear of his Kryptonian heritage, it had ruled many of his decisions over the past four years. He'd thought he was stronger than that, and Raya's new insights made him see a new side to the world he had tried so hard to deny.

He still didn't know how he felt about it all.

He understood Jor-El better, and Raya's explanation of the true meaning of his father's messages and intent for him reassured him. His destiny wasn't some evil alien conquest or to be a reprogrammed slave to Jor-El's will, and somehow the concept of destiny sat a little lighter on his shoulders than it had before. It was still a heavy burden, but one he actually felt willing to shoulder rather than a dead weight he had never asked to be saddled with.

But despite all that, he still could not feel totally at ease with his heritage. He now felt a kinship with the people of his homeworld that he had never known before, and a longing to see Krypton for himself, but Krypton was gone. Empathizing with his people, mourning them as they had deserved, wouldn't make it any easier to be among the last of them. It couldn't erase a lifetime of being a Kryptonian fish out of water. He was still the freak in a world full of normal people, and he was no closer to resolving that conflict within himself than he had been the day his dad had first shown him the spaceship in the storm cellar.

Maybe, just maybe, having Raya around would help. Maybe it would be easier to be the little green man from outer space if he wasn't the only one.


	11. 10: Treadmills or Progress?

**A/N-** I'm really not too pleased with this chapter. It's mostly just filler. Nothing much changes with Rage (with one notable exception that I'm sure you'll pick up on by the end), because it's not an episode tied in to the intimate structure of the season as a whole. Therefore I'm left just covering rewrites of scenes we've already seen, a lot of retained dialogue, but only a little that's interesting. It feels forced. If I had a beta maybe I wouldn't have this problem, but what can I say? Fifteen years of my mother trying to edit my sentence structure without my permission (and without any legitimate cause, I might add) has made me a little gun-shy when it comes to anyone touching my work once it's written.

I guess part of the reason I'm so sketchy on this chapter is that even though we're making progress, we haven't entirely left the past behind, and even if we had, there are still some birthing pains to suffer, and that's really what this chapter is about. Also a lot of it was written at four a.m. after consuming twelve cups of coffee, so... sorry? Expect a run-on or two. But then again, I always did have a Dickensian tendency to cram as many words into a sentence as I possibly could. MODIFIERS ARE NECESSARY, DAMMIT!

* * *

><p>10. Treadmills or Progress?<p>

"_And it's the same sad love song,_  
><em>And then it's all right, all wrong,<em>  
><em>And then we're too weak, too strong,<em>  
><em>To cut the cord<em>."  
>-Charlotte Martin<p>

* * *

><p>A week and a half flew by before Clark even realized it. It had been a busy time, what with getting Raya settled. Not wanting to impose upon himself and his mother much longer, but also not interested in being too far away from Clark, she had decided to begin the search for an apartment somewhere in Lowell County. The going was slow, especially as she hadn't yet figured out how to best apply her variety of talents in the form of gainful employment, and no landlord wanted to sign over an apartment to an unemployed single woman.<p>

The process of establishing Raya as a bona fide Earthling was somewhat hampered by the fact that she'd done some pretty extensive traveling, sometimes accompanied by Clark and sometimes alone. She'd been taking advantage of her flight and super-speed to see a lot more of her new adopted world. Ostensibly she was just enjoying herself and exploring, but based on the locations she was frequenting, Clark had suspected she was trying to track down more Zoners. When he confronted her about it, she didn't deny it. He'd tried to protest that that was supposed to be his job, as he was the one who'd let them escape in the first place, but she'd brushed that aside. The way she saw it, she was as responsible for the release of the prisoners as he was, and with her greater knowledge of their powers and access to the flight that still eluded him, she was better equipped to face them. Clark hadn't been able to argue with her logic, but after that he still insisted on accompanying her every time she left the state.

Quite aside from the ongoing quest to stop Zoners, however, Raya was also reveling in getting to know her new home better. Watching her watch the world gave Clark a new appreciation for just how lucky he was to have grown up on Earth. His newfound appreciation for Krypton notwithstanding, he loved his adopted world, and watching Raya become acquainted with both its natural and cultural wonders was a reminder of why.

His mother had welcomed this newcomer into their home with all the grace one might have expected of Martha Kent. At first Raya had been a little wary of her. Clark wasn't sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with having been so close with his biological parents that she felt unsure of his adoptive ones. Regardless of the cause, his mom's warmth and customary open attitude had won Raya over extremely quickly. He was sure that before long, Raya would be as much a part of the family as Lois and Chloe.

As for Clark himself... well, he wasn't actually sure how he was doing. He went about his his daily life, but ever since that enchanted afternoon in the Andes, it seemed as though he was wandering around in a daze. He didn't feel like talking to Chloe, or putting any effort into nurturing his budding friendships with Jimmy or Oliver, or... anything, really. Even his love for Lana, even the ache he constantly felt at knowing she was sharing her bed with a man Clark knew to be evil or well on his way to it, had faded into the background of his thoughts. It somehow didn't feel right to sit and stew over a lost love when he finally understood just how much he really had lost? The revelation upon revelation that Raya had heaped on him had put him somehow out of sync with the rest of the world and he didn't know quite how to get back to the reality of his life. His chores were completed with all the enthusiasm of an automaton, but his head and his heart were all wrapped up in a home long gone and a family long dead.

He hated it. The bittersweet feeling of truly belonging to Krypton in a way he hadn't before was suffocating him. He had always feared that if he truly embraced his Kryptonian heritage he would lose his humanity somehow, and it looked as though that just might be coming true. Rather than meeting Chloe for coffee when she returned from a shift at the Planet, over the past week and a half he found himself instead running up north to the newly restored Fortress. He wasn't there to start his training, not yet, but he spent hours wandering the immense halls of the crystal structure. He ignored Jor-El.

Fumblingly, he managed to navigate the mainframe with his limited knowledge of Kryptonian technology; he discovered holographic images of members of the House of El which he projected through the columns. The hours spent in the Fortress were mostly wiled away on gazing at these pictures, memorizing the faces of the family he would never know. His aunt Zara who, but for the lack of laugh lines around her eyes, was the spitting image of his mother, her twin. The austere and dark-eyed Zor-El. Most fascinating to him was the cousin Raya had spoken of: Kara. She had been pretty, with a tangle of wild blonde curls and huge blue eyes and an impish smile. He wondered if she would have been like an older sister to him had she lived, the way Lois was to Chloe. He liked to think she would have been. Even as a static image she seemed to exude bright energy, and he felt certain that they would have been as close as cousins could be.

His behavior was probably not healthy, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. For the first time, he was truly beginning to comprehend what it was he had lost, and he needed time to assimilate that, intellectually and emotionally. He needed to grieve. That was a process he ought to have been familiar with by now, but how did you grieve for people you'd never even met? And so he went through life as if in a dream. He worked hard to make his interactions with people as normal as possible, but he was distracted all the same. He felt as if he were watching his life from the outside. Chloe and his mother had surely guessed that something was wrong, but they didn't press him. As for Raya, she made it obvious that she understood just what he was wrestling with, and left him to sort it out on his own. He suspected it was a tactic she had employed over the years with his father, and that knowledge didn't help any.

Clark had just returned from yet another trip to the Fortress and was preparing to start the afternoon chores when he heard the laughing voices. His mother and Raya entered the kitchen, both carrying bulging grocery sacks. Force of habit compelled Clark to rush to his mother's side and take the bags from her hands and placing them on the counter. A quick peek inside the bags revealed them to be full of all the trappings of a Thanksgiving feast. A _large_ Thanksgiving feast.

"You've got enough food here to feed a small army!" he remarked.

"I thought it'd be a good idea to invite a few people over for Thanksgiving this year," his mother said.

"Actually, I was hoping we could keep it low-key," Clark protested. "I'm not feeling all that thankful this year."

Martha's expression sagged a little in sympathy. "I know it's been a hard year for you, with your dad gone and everything that's happened with Lex and Lana, but maybe company will help."

Raya's expression grew ever so faintly distressed. "Besides," she piped up. "I think I'd very much enjoy it. I would like to meet the friends you've told me about, Kal-El."

Seeing he was outmatched, he choked back the observation that this had been his dad's holiday and simply nodded. It would make both his mother and Raya happy, and he just didn't have the energy to protest.

Raya smiled at his acquiescence. "I'm going to take these things upstairs," she said, lifting a pair of bags from the outlet mall in Topeka. "Martha has been giving me a thorough instruction in Earth fashion."

With a whoosh, she disappeared upstairs, and not a moment too soon because only seconds after she vanished from sight, footsteps could be heard on the back porch and Lois appeared in the doorway. Clark's eyes were immediately drawn to her. He hadn't seen her since rescuing her and Oliver from Baern, as she had been tied up in his mother's Topeka office for almost all the intervening time.

"Hey," she said glumly. "So you can scratch Oliver's name off the Thanksgiving guest list, or any other guest list, for that matter. I'm solo."

Clark stared at her. Something had stirred in him at the implications of Lois's statement, and he wasn't totally sure what. He had never really been sure how he was supposed to feel about Lois's relationship with the billionaire-cum-vigilante (not that she knew about that last part), but his instinctive pleased reaction to hearing that it was over clued him in. He didn't dislike Oliver- in fact, he was pretty sure they could call each other friends- but Clark didn't feel that he was right for Lois. He couldn't explain why, because on paper the two of them were perfect for each other. There was just something about it that didn't sit well with Clark.

"Well, that's too bad," Martha said sympathetically. "What happened?"

"Last night he pulled another one of his trademark disappearing acts- smack in the middle of a date."

"Well, I'm sorry, Lois," Martha replied.

"Oh, don't be! I mean, who's kidding who here? We had no future. He's a world renowned billionaire, and I am a nail-biting, talon-dwelling freelance reporter." Her tone was meant to be lighthearted, but Clark was almost positive that it was yet another example of Lois's infamous emotional deflector shield. Well, she could pretend all she wanted to, but he could see that she wasn't fine.

"Lois, I'm sure you'll find someone who's better suited for you," he hurried to assure her.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Life goes on," she said with a roll of her eyes. "At least for some people. Have you heard the news? The Green Arrow was shot last night. It's in today's Planet. A man found him bleeding and ran for help, but when the cops finally got there, all that was left was a bloodstain."

That was news to Clark, but it definitely explained Oliver's disappearance. He made a mental note to go to his friend's apartment as quickly as he could get away to check on Oliver. "Where did this happen?"

Lois shrugged. "I dunno, about five or six blocks from Olli- Oliver's apartment? A witness said it was a carjacking gone wrong."

Clark hadn't missed her slip with her erstwhile paramour's nickname, but elected not to bring it up. "A carjacking in that part of town?" he asked by way of deflection. "Seems like a pretty upscale neighborhood for that."

"Oh don't tell me you're that naive, Smallville," she said.

"What do you mean by that?" he shot back.

"Please, with the way the numbers have been changing in the last few years- not to mention the number of meteor-infected psychos running around- Metropolis has the highest crime rate in the country! Well, except for Gotham, but that goes without saying. At this point, there isn't really anyplace in town that's safe after nightfall."

It was an uncomfortable thought to realize that Oliver was very right in one respect. Clark had always used his powers to protect his friends, his family, the people of Smallville, and on a sparse handful of occasions, even the world. But practically in his backyard there was a whole city, eaten alive by crime and corruption, and although he'd stopped trouble when it showed up at his door, he could do more with his gifts. It was what his dad would have wanted. It was what Lara would have wanted.

"I didn't know it was so bad," he remarked, trying to conceal just how much her relatively offhand comment had affected him.

Lois shrugged. "It's gotten worse since Dark Thursday, not that that's surprising, with the rebuilding still going on."

Clark nodded, guilt now added to the potent mixture of emotions he was being assuaged by. So much for the strange stretch of emotional detachment he'd been suffering from the last week and a half!

"What I want to know is, what's Green Arrow doing tangled up in a carjacking?" she added. "Last I checked, he was a vigilante with a Robin Hood complex, not the savior of Metropolis."

"Maybe you misjudged him," Clark suggested. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Lois gave him a look that made him almost regret antagonizing her when she was in an emotionally delicate state- well, as emotionally delicate as Lois was likely to get. "And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?" she asked in an exceptionally prickly tone.

If it had been anyone else, Clark would have been backpedaling like crazy in a desperate attempt not to hurt anybody's feelings. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Lois. Besides, he was actually enjoying the immediacy of their verbal sparring. He might be able to get away with getting lost in thoughts of Krypton while running the farm or making small talk with other Smallville citizens, but with Lois, he had to be right on top of things or she would have the upper hand before he knew what hit him. It was very grounding, and for the first time in awhile, Clark felt solid and real and normal.

"Oh, you mean you hadn't noticed your tendency to jump to conclusions about people?" he pointed out, wearing a smug smirk in the face of her glare.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't start with me, Smallville," she fired back. "I'm the one who figured out Green Arrow was actually doing some good in the world, aren't I? He might want to help, but he's still a criminal! Even if he's well-intentioned, he's no Kal-El."

And just like that, Clark was utterly out of his depth. Skirting the edges of his friend's secret identity was one thing. And a month ago, discussing his Kryptonian identity hadn't seemed too dangerous, as long as he was careful. But Raya's account had changed things. He no longer had the luxury of putting emotional distance between Kal-El and Clark Kent.

Finding himself eager to extract himself from the suddenly stifling atmosphere in the kitchen in favor of going to see what he could discover about Oliver's misadventure from the previous night, Clark cast around for a way to escape. He shot his mother a desperate look, but she merely looked amused.

"I, um... I should get going," he said abruptly. "I have to pick something up from the hardware store."

Without waiting for a reply from either woman, he made a beeline for the door and headed out into the yard.

In the kitchen, Lois glanced at Martha, her eyebrows raised in utter bafflement. "Was it something I said?" she asked in confusion.

Martha just shrugged, trying to hide her grin.

Clark intended to switch into super-speed as soon as he was sure of being out of Lois's sight. Before he could switch over, however, a whispered voice sang out his Kryptonian name. He glanced up and spotted Raya leaning out one of the second floor windows.

She tipped forward and fell gracefully, completing an aerobatic flip in slow motion before she touched down on the ground. Clark felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips; _someone_ was enjoying her powers.

"Who was that?" she asked upon landing.

"You were listening?"

She shrugged. "Your friend has a loud voice. I admit was curious."

Clark grinned. Loud was definitely the right word. "That's Lois."

"The one you mentioned when we were searching for Baern? The warrior girl?" Raya asked.

He nodded. "Lois's father is a general, yeah," he confirmed.

She smiled. "She certainly has the manner of someone with a military heritage. And-" she added in an apparent non-sequitur, "I haven't heard _you_ sound that animated in over a week."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing at all," she replied with a knowing look that suggested exactly the opposite.

Clark fervently wished he didn't know exactly what she was talking about. The truth of the matter was that he _did_ know. And her description of how his parents' relationship had begun was running in circles in his head and he _really_ didn't like the implications of that. Just because Lois tended to have an... an _effect_ on him, just because Lara and Jor-El used to argue the way they did, that didn't have to mean anything. Sometimes a friend was just a friend, and sometimes verbal sparring was just a symptom of chemistry, and friends could have chemistry without it meaning... stuff.

"Listen, I've gotta run to Metropolis to check on a friend who may have been hurt," Clark told her, deciding to put Raya's subtle but disturbing implications about Lois aside for the time being. "Would you like to come with me and explore the city a little?"

She nodded. "I'd love to. Lead the way."

Within moments, they were just two colorful blurs streaking their way across the Great Plains.

* * *

><p>The next afternoon, Lois was sitting in the Talon apartment, up to her ears in both roses and paper. The first was because Oliver had decided that the best way to apologize for his vanishing act was to buy out the Smallville florist shop. The second had a much more practical purpose.<p>

Ever since her encounter with Kal-El at the nuclear plant almost two weeks ago, Lois had been even more determined than before to learn everything she could about the obscure protector from Krypton, even find him if she could. The long hours Mrs. Kent's current political efforts had lately required her to put in at the office in Topeka (not to mention her continuing forays into journalism, all which could be found gracing the pages of the Planet) had prevented her from doing much work on her personal pet project. However, the state senate had taken a week-long recess around Thanksgiving, leaving Lois free to continue her research.

Lois had been fascinated by the mystery that Kal-El presented, but in a split second that had changed. Prior to the moment she opened her eyes thinking she was about to see some pearly gates and instead found herself facing the back of the tall man who had thrown herself between her and certain death, he had been an investigation, albeit a fascinating one. Now, however, he had become more than an abstract concept and a distant hero to be admired. Now he was a living man, whose hand she had touched and whose pulse she had felt jump beneath her fingertips. He wasn't just a silent protector, he was_ her_ hero. And that made her all the more determined to find him.

On a hunch, she had pulled county records about the recovered debris in the aftermath of the first meteor shower. It seemed unlikely that a spaceship would have been reported in public records- assuming that anyone had even found Kal-El's ship that day- but you never knew what might turn up. She was currently scanning the lists of random detritus item-by-item, hoping for anything that might give her a fresh clue in her investigation.

She was interrupted by a knock at her door. "Come in," she called out.

To be honest, she had kind of been expecting Oliver. It wouldn't be surprising if he decided to follow up the floral carpet-bombing with a personal apology. She was surprised, therefore, when a very different young man entered.

"Wow," Clark said, eyebrows burying themselves in his hairline at the sight of Oliver's tribute to 'I'm sorry.' "Since when did you turn the apartment into a florist shop?"

"They're from Oliver," she said tiredly, studying a vase of calla lilies that graced an end table.

Clark's expression turned unexpectedly stormy. "Wait a second. The guy smothers you with flowers, and you forget everything he's done?" he asked.

Lois rolled her eyes, actively offended. She wasn't the kind of girl who fell at the feet of a guy all over, just because he'd promised it would never happen again, and frankly she was surprised that Clark would think it of her. "Please. I'm not that gullible. The whole botanical overkill is just a lame attempt to beg forgiveness."

Clark informed her, to her unending horror, that he had gone to Oliver on her behalf in an attempt to "look out for her," and when he informed her of the syringes he had found in the penthouse, a lot of puzzle pieces clicked into place. The heart she had resolved to harden against her currently-undefined leading man was suddenly much more receptive to the sentiment behind the huge bouquets he had sent to her.

She exchanged some kind of verbal daggers with Clark (to be honest, she wasn't really sure what she said, too busy chastising herself for her insensitivity toward what Oliver had been going through) and hurried out the door, just barely remembering to grab her phone as she went.

* * *

><p>The Daily Planet basement was a hive of activity, as it had been every single time Lana had met Chloe there. Lana wasn't the type of person to be intimidated by a crowd, but she would never understand how her friends could work in this kind of atmosphere. Well, maybe she could see how Lois would thrive here, but she had always been surprised that Chloe, who so valued her privacy (or perhaps it was secrecy), could stand to work in such a crowded environment.<p>

As she descended the stairs, she reflected that it was a huge relief to be able to go down stairs again at all. Dr. Bethany had finally given her the go-ahead on abandoning the wheelchair, and though she still wore a heavy wrapping of bandages around her torso to reinforce her healing ribs, it was just nice to be able to stand on her own two feet again.

The distraction brought on by relief, however, was not enough to prevent her from hearing a familiar voice say, "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

Chloe responded with an extremely false-sounding, "No! Why would I want to do that?" just as she rounded the corner.

Clark and Chloe stood by the elevators.

"Lana," he said in that same pained-yet-warm tone he always had, wearing a familiar stunned expression at the sight of her. It was almost enough to make her think maybe he still loved her, even though she knew that to be impossible.

"Hi," she forced out around a suddenly pounding heart.

Chloe's looked between them apologetically. "Us girls were just gonna get some lunch," she said into the awkward tension.

"That's great," Clark said in an obvious attempt at civility. "Uh, have a good time." He escaped into the elevator.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all," Chloe said, touching Lana's shoulder sympathetically. "I tried to keep the heavenly bodies from colliding, but there's only so much I can do."

Lana summoned up a smile to let her friend know that her efforts were appreciated. "I want you to check something out for me before we go," she requested.

Chloe gave her an surprised look. "Yeah, okay. My Google is your Google. What do you need?"

As she marshaled her resolve, her thoughts drifted back to that morning, when she had explained to Lex her desire to focus her charitable efforts on the Second Chance Halfway House. His response had surprised her. She could understand his reluctance to see her working with convicted criminals, but the flat-out refusal was a surprise. He had shut her down firmly and almost coldly, and Lana didn't like it. Lex had always treated her as an adult before, capable of making her own decisions, and this sudden deviation from the pattern smelled funny to her.

She had thought about going to Lois with her worries, especially considering Lois was now as much in the business of ferreting out buried secrets as her cousin, but she'd decided against it. Lois might be the supportive ear she needed while sorting out her relationship with Lex and her feelings for Clark, but Chloe, she knew, had a far greater ability to dig up information via the internet.

"I'm curious about this halfway house that Luthorcorp Foundation supports. I offered to get involved, but Lex won't let me anywhere near it. He says it isn't safe," she explained.

"Well, most halfway houses aren't exactly amusement parks, Lana."

"I don't think that's it," she said slowly. "Lex swears that he's honest with me, but lately he's- he's been a little secretive. I don't know. Maybe I'm reading into it."

Chloe shook her head as she sank into her desk chair, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "No, I think you're just being cautious, which is smart," she said. "Don't worry. We'll figure things out."

Lana nodded, walking around the desk to peer over Chloe's shoulder. "Find anything yet?"

Chloe scanned the pages she'd brought up, then leaned back in her chair with a shrug. "No, just your usual generic bio of the place... nothing out of the ordinary."

"There must be something. Lex wouldn't have just shut me down like that if there wasn't a reason for it," Lana insisted.

"Tell you what, let's go to lunch," Chloe said. "I'll keep looking this afternoon, see if there's anything I can dig up. It's not that unusual for getting this type of information to take a little bit of cyber-gymnastics; if you're anywhere near as starving as I am, there's no way we can put off eating long enough for that kind of hacking!"

Lana grinned despite herself. "Alright," she agreed amicably. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Clark and Raya had spent the morning in New Brunswick and he was explaining the finer points of lobster trapping to her when the call came through on his cell.<p>

"Hi Mom," he answered blithely.

"Clark, honey, Lois is in the hospital."

He instantly felt his stomach ice over. "What happened?"

"I don't know, she just called to tell me that she wasn't going to be able to meet me today to help make the pies for tomorrow..."

"Which hospital is she at?"

"MetGen."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he said tersely before hanging up the phone. Turning to Raya, he said, "I have to go. Can you find your way home?"

She nodded, and he was gone.

Clark hated it when Lois got hurt. He honestly didn't know why the news that Lois was in the emergency room (again) always made him feel panicky and terrified, but it always had. Maybe because Lois always projected such a strong image of herself to the world, it was startling to see her brought low like that. Whatever the cause, the knowledge that Lois had at least been well enough to personally make a phone call to his mother didn't assuage his worry in the slightest. Clark poured on the speed in his race back to Metropolis, making the journey in record time.

He paused only long enough to read a patient list carried by a nurse in pink scrubs, and then he was off through the hospital corridors, hurrying as fast as he could at human speed to reach the third floor room to which Lois had been assigned.

"Lois, what happened?" he asked, bursting through the door.

Lois rolled her eyes and that was some reassurance, at least. The fact that she didn't look pale and bruised the way Lana had only a few scant weeks prior, the way she had in his imaginings as he'd raced back from Canada, did a lot of good for his heart rate as well.

"Well, lucky for me, I walked in on Green Arrow pulling a reverse Santa Claus on Oliver's apartment," she informed him.

Clark gaped at her. "The Green Arrow did this to you?" he asked. Oliver might have been a little odd in his behavior lately (caused, no doubt, by whatever he was shooting up with), but he couldn't believe that the older man would ever deliberately hurt Lois any more than Clark would. He cared about her too much for that.

She shrugged, then winced, and glanced awkwardly over her shoulder at the bandages Clark could see adorning a large swathe of her upper back. "I'm surprised he would hit up Ollie's place, actually. I mean, I know he's got the whole rob-from-the-rich thing going, but I really thought he was only targeting billionaires with black market goods to their name," she said, frowning. "Needless to say, he wasn't too happy to be caught in the act. Luckily, I was able to get in a few solid licks of my own. He'll be nursing a couple broken ribs, for sure."

Clark was even more concerned than before about what was happening with his friend. "Have you talked to Oliver yet? Has he visited you here in the hospital?" he asked urgently.

"No. I tried him on all his numbers, and he was nowhere to be found. Clark, I'm nervous," Lois confessed, and Clark felt his heart go out to her. He knew what it was like to watch someone you cared about spiral out of control. "Either he's on some kind of crazy drug bender or Green Arrow has gone beyond petty robbery."

Impulsively, he grabbed her hand reassuringly. "Lois, don't worry. I promise I'll do everything I can to track him down," he promised.

Lois's eyes widened. "I, uh..." Her eyes darted down to where his fingers grasped hers, then back up to his face. It might as well have been three months ago in a crowded hospital ward on Dark Thursday, but this time, Clark wasn't letting go. He was worried about her.

With a visible effort, Lois managed to complete the sentence she'd tried to start. "I don't know how much help that'll be, Smallville," she said.

"Trust me," he said.

* * *

><p>What did it mean, Lana wondered, that this was the first place she thought of coming, even now?<p>

She had waited on tenterhooks all of yesterday and most of today, constantly checking her phone in case Chloe called, waiting to hear what she'd found out about the Second Chance Halfway House. Finally, she had given up on waiting and just driven to the Talon to see her friend.

Chloe had indeed had information about the halfway house, but it hadn't been the relieving kind Lana had been hoping for. The story Chloe had uncovered of the research a young professor named Dr. Black was conducting on the ex-cons with a highly experimental healing drug was pretty ugly to begin with. The doctor's grisly murder made it even more so. The fact that LuthorCorp had been funding the research was just the icing on the cake.

Lana didn't know what to believe anymore. Chloe hadn't been able to find any conclusive proof linking Lex personally to the dangerous RL-65 drug and its consequences, but she didn't need it. Lana could connect the dots herself. Between Lex's standoffish attitude regarding the halfway house a few days previously and the information Chloe had uncovered, it was pretty clear that even if he hadn't been directly involved, he had at least known what was going on. And he hadn't been honest with her about it.

Her heart was conflicted, and all the doubts she thought she'd been well on her way to putting to bed were rising up to pull her under again.

She should have talked to Chloe, but she didn't want to talk to Chloe. She should have talked to Lois, but Lois had enough on her plate with her wayward boyfriend and her visit to the hospital after a run-in with Green Arrow.

Instead, she was standing here, staring at the bottom step of a set of stairs that would lead her up to the loft where she was sure to find Clark.

* * *

><p>It had been a very weird few days, Clark reflected. Not that that was really so unusual, but Oliver's actions in the past forty-eight hours had given him a lot to think about. The dangers of the RL-65 which had almost resulted in Lex's death at Oliver's hands had shaken him. It had surprised him to realize that despite all the bad blood between himself and Lex, he still cared enough about his ex-friend to be furious when he thought Oliver had killed him, and not purely from a moral standpoint either.<p>

It had also been a surprise to realize that he himself was a big part of Oliver's motivation in taking the RL-65. He had known on some level that Oliver was jealous of his powers, but to hear him flat-out say it like that was unexpected. And it affirmed something in Clark's mind that he had been slowly coming to realize for awhile now. Once all the Zoners were dealt with, he was going to follow in the other man's footsteps. Maybe not with the whole costumed hero/secret identity aspect of it all (Clark honestly wasn't sure if he'd be able to pull that off as smoothly as Oliver did), but he wanted to start using his gifts to benefit the world at large, not just the people closest to him. That was what all four of his parents had believed in, and he intended to be the kind of son his parents could be proud of.

The resolution was kind of a relief, actually. It felt like a step towards putting a solid definition on the vague idea of destiny that had been laid at his feet. It felt like weight off his shoulders rather than something else to worry about, for once.

More troublesome, however, was Lois's role in all this. Part of him was startlingly, frighteningly pleased to think that this disaster might have proved to be the end of her fledgling relationship with Oliver, and he simply didn't understand why.

Actually, he thought he might have an inkling. Raya's story was getting to him in more ways than one, that was all. Her description of his parents' early encounters just happened to parallel his relationship with Lois in some respects. But, he reminded himself, that was different. The bickering that had characterized Jor-El and Lara's first acquaintance had only lasted a few months, not several years! Okay, so maybe he actually really enjoyed sparring with Lois, and maybe on his end their more heated encounters were charged with some weird kind of sexual tension, and yeah, sure, he was attracted to her. So maybe in another lifetime, he and Lois would have been something besides friends. But in this lifetime? Even if he'd actually wanted to pursue something with her, Lois wasn't even remotely interested in him so even bothering to think about it too hard was pointless.

Not that it seemed to be stopping him right now, unfortunately.

_Come on, Kent, there's no _way_ you're seriously going there..._

"Clark?"

The whisper-soft voice from the top of the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up, and for a split-second he was sixteen again and the girl next door had decided to grace his barn with a visit. He had hardly thought about Lana in weeks, but seeing her again made it feel like nothing had changed.

Part of him rebelled, because this Lana standing before him was not that Lana. Her eyes were darker now, weighed down with shadows he'd had a hand in creating; the girl who used to dress in pinks and whites and soft baby blues was garbed in black suede that matched her hair and made her appear one long strand of shadows with a ghostly face peering out. This wasn't the girl he had fallen in love with when he was barely into adolescence. This was some cold, hard stranger wearing her face.

Despite all that, thoughts of Lois receded to the back of his mind, leaving him just time to decide he would invite Oliver to Thanksgiving dinner to give him a chance to repair his damaged relationship, before Lana consumed his entire consciousness as she always had.

"Lana?" he choked out. "What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look like a frightened doe and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "You know, I'm not completely sure," she replied solemnly. She turned away from him, crossing to the window.

It was something they'd always done, and the part of his mind that wasn't dedicated to drinking in the sight of her standing in his loft like she'd never left recognized that. They always turned away from each other when they were talking about important things. They never could look each other in the eye when they were talking about anything important. It was different with Lois...

Lois?

"Honestly," Lana continued, gazing out at the cloudy night sky, "I really don't know why I came here. I shouldn't, I know. We ended things between us, and I keep telling myself that I don't have any right, anymore, but..."

"Lana, whatever's happened between us, you know you're always welcome if you ever need anything," he promised her.

He was pretty sure she was smiling, but with her back to him, he didn't know.

"Even after everything that's happened, I guess I still feel safe here," she confided.

"I'm glad," he said.

Her shoulders went stiff, and he couldn't fathom why. "It's funny, you know. I've been going along, thinking I was basing my choices on one thing, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe I haven't been fooling myself," she said, so quietly he didn't think he would have picked up on it if it weren't for his super-hearing.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's just... do you ever look back on your life- on things you've done- and wonder if you should have done things differently?" she asked.

Her whole visit had been puzzling thus far. The fact that she was here at all was strange, for a start, but he hadn't thought to question that even when she'd brought it up herself. Her body language was screaming that she felt lost and afraid and all alone again and it had always been that part of her that had called out to him most strongly. And now her words were starting to sound strange. Regret, uncertainty... they were ideas he had always associated with Lana, but usually on his end of their relationship, not on hers.

"Lana, what's going on?" he asked.

At last, she turned around and faced him, and there was a fearful look in her eye. "I don't even know," she said, sounding very tired. "I shouldn't have come here, Clark. I'm sorry."

She hurried past him. If she had been Chloe or Lois or Raya, he might have reached out and caught her by the elbow and made her tell him what was wrong, but he'd never allowed himself to behave that way toward Lana, even when they were friends and only friends. And so she got away, descending the stairs with a clatter of high-heeled boots on the wooden slats. Clark gaped after her.

What had that been about?

* * *

><p>The next day was Thanksgiving, and Clark was extremely grateful that he didn't need as much sleep as most people. He had been awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what had prompted Lana's extremely strange visit and subsequent flight. The only conclusion he could reach was that she must be beginning to see Lex's darker side just as he eventually had. Was she repulsed by it? He didn't wish any more heartache on her than he'd already inflicted, but he kind of hoped so. He would feel so much better about not being with her if he only knew she wasn't involved with a man like Lex Luthor.<p>

Fortunately, preparations for the Kent family (and friends) Thanksgiving feast had begun early, and he had more or less been able to force Lana to a back corner of his mind for most of the morning.

"Hi, Mrs. Kent!" Lois sang out from the doorway. She bore a tinfoil-wrapped package under one arm. "Hey, Smallville!"

"Hi Lois," he replied, greeting her with a smile.

"I brought pie!" she said proudly.

He had known she was practicing, but somehow he was still surprised that she'd actually managed to produce a pie for the day. "Really?" he asked skeptically.

She shot him a look. "Yes, _really_," she said, and proceeded to unwrap the pie plate with all the flair of a master chef revealing her prize souffle. "There," she pronounced, setting the contents on the counter.

Clark stared at her so-called pie, which looked rather more like charcoal than crumb crust. "Did you cook that on the barbecue?" he asked sarcastically.

She shot him an annoyed look. "It's a little crispy on the outside, but it's what's on the inside that counts," she said.

"I'm sure it's delicious," a voice said from behind them.

Clark and Lois both turned to look. At the top of the stairs stood Raya, wearing a new green dress that brought out matching tones in her eyes. She smiled at them and made a hasty descent to join them in the kitchen. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long K- Clark," she said, only stumbling very slightly over his human name.

If Clark had been looking at Lois in that moment, he would have seen her eyes widen and a very strange look pass over her features. But he wasn't looking and so he was all smiles as he said, "Lois, this is my friend Raya. Raya, this is-"

"Lois Lane," Raya preempted him, smiling at the younger woman. "Clark has told me about you."

Lois let out a slightly uncomfortable laugh. "Well, I wouldn't believe everything you hear," she said.

"I don't know, he's had only good things to say about you," Raya replied.

Lois's eyebrows rose. "Smallville? Say something nice about _me_? Hardly!"

Clark felt abruptly annoyed at the continued pretense that they hated each other. Everybody could see through it anyway, so why even bother with some stupid unspoken pact they'd made when they were teenagers? "Come on, Lois. Is it really that surprising? We _are_ friends," he pointed out, his tone a little more peevish than he'd intended it to be.

She gave him a surprised look. "Sure we are," she agreed. "I thought the whole fake-loathing thing was our shtick."

He couldn't help but relax at her sincerity. "Whatever you say, Lois," he said with an amused eye-roll. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Clark could tell without even using his X-ray vision that it was Oliver. "I think that's for you," he said.

She gave him a look, but didn't question it and made for the front door.

Raya looked at Martha, who had been observing the three of them from near the stove. "Is it just me, or was it like we weren't even in the room?" she asked.

* * *

><p>After dinner, when the dishes had been cleared away to be dealt with later and idle conversation was the order of the day, Clark retreated to the loft to clear his head. It had been a good Thanksgiving. Strange, but good. If you had asked him five years ago how he had envisioned spending Thanksgiving, 2006, his answer would not have included Lionel Luthor, a Kryptonian woman, Lois Lane, and a billionaire vigilante.<p>

The whole meal had borne a very strong couples theme. Lois and Oliver's reunion had seemed to go pretty smoothly, if their couple-y behavior throughout the meal was any indication. Chloe had trod on the toes of courtesy by surreptitiously texting Jimmy at various times. Even if the thought made him sick to his stomach, he had to admit that there had been a certain vibe coming from his mother and Lionel- not that he was surprised, he'd always known that Lionel had a certain appreciation for his mother, but the thought was still too painful to contemplate not even a year after his father's passing. One way or another, the whole meal had been all about the pairs theme.

And even with Raya there, he had still felt left out in the cold.

It helped, certainly, to have a fellow Kryptonian sitting next to him, but being less alone didn't mitigate the fact that he wasn't in love.

Was he?

He didn't even know anymore. He had honestly thought he was on his way to getting over Lana. Actually, he'd thought that the weird pseudo-feelings (which were totally different from _real_ feelings) he'd been experiencing toward Lois in recent weeks might be a symptom of being done at last with his first love, sort of like a muscle spasm in a formerly paralyzed limb. And then she had come to see him last night and now he wasn't sure _what_ he felt.

Before he sat down on the couch he had picked up a framed picture of Lana he still kept on his desk and was studying it intently.

When he actually had Lana right there in the room, he thought he must still love her because that impatient little buzzing somewhere in his mind was still driving him towards her. When he was actively thinking about her, he felt it, too. But if you loved someone, really loved them, shouldn't it be harder to forget about them for weeks at a time, and harder to barely think about them when they weren't right there?

"So, I never figured you for the type to go for an older woman."

Lois's voice yanked him out of his speculation and he sat upright, dropping Lana's photograph onto the table in front of him. "W-what?" he sputtered out, surprised by her unexpected presence and confused by her statement.

She climbed the last few steps to the loft level. "Raya?" she prompted, as though he were a slow child.

"Raya? Older-" Realization dawned a little belatedly. "What? No, we're not... that is, I wouldn't- She's an old friend of my family."

Lois's lips turned upward a little but that was all her expression gave away as she plopped down next to her on the couch and said, "Really? I've never heard your parents mention her before."

Clark shook his head. "No, I mean my biological family."

Her eyes widened. "Wow, I didn't know you were in touch with your biological family."

He leaned forward tiredly. "I'm not, really. I mean, the reason I was given up for adoption was because my parents- most of my family, actually- died."

The gently teasing tone she'd been using had mostly faded away the moment he mentioned his biological parents, but at that, all the joking went out of her. She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "Wow, I'm really sorry, Clark," she said. "Are you just finding this out, or-?"

He shook his head. "No, I knew that before, but it's just that Raya's been filling in a lot of details."

"No wonder Chloe said you've been distracted for a week! I can't imagine what that must be like," she said.

Clark smiled, warmed by her unspoken concern. He wasn't sure why he was being so honest- circumspect, but honest- with her. It just felt very natural to confide in her. She didn't know about Krypton or his complicated history with Jor-El or any of it. She was just a welcoming ear. The thought occurred to him, very briefly, that Lois probably wouldn't be any different even if she did know the whole story. Not much could change her without her permission.

"Actually, it's kind of nice," he told her. "I mean, I've known the facts for awhile, but Raya knew my parents when she was... younger. She can actually tell me things about them, things I would never have gotten to know otherwise."

"Like they're real people instead of just names on a birth certificate," Lois said.

He looked at her, awestruck. "Exactly," he agreed.

She gave him an unusually gentle smile. "Our parents are where we come from," she said with a shrug. "If you don't know where exactly that is, it can weigh on you."

Something about her tone gave her away. "It sounds like you speak from experience."

"The General never talks about Mom," she explained. "Most of what I know about her- about them- I had to piece together from people who knew her."

"What was she like?" he asked. He wasn't sure if he'd ever wondered before.

She smiled wistfully. "Smart. Like, genius-level smart. And funny. And she never took no for an answer."

"She sounds a lot like her daughter," Clark said almost without thinking, and he was amazed to see Lois blush.

In what was clearly an attempt to deflect attention away from her visible embarrassment, Lois asked, "So what were your parents like?"

He leaned forward, wondering how to tell the truth without telling her the whole truth. Finally, he settled on an abbreviated version. "My father... well, he was a lot more like me than I used to think."

"And your mother?" she prompted.

"She was..." He smiled, imagining the vivid portrait of his mother that Raya had created. "She was the bravest woman in the world. Her name was Lara."

"That's pretty," she commented.

He nodded. They lapsed into silence for awhile, both lost in their own thoughts. Clark, for his part, marveled for the hundredth time at how easy it was to talk to Lois. Even after knowing Chloe for years, he'd never been as comfortable with her as he was with Lois until after she discovered his secret. It was only once she had that puzzle pieces that Chloe had really seemed to accept or understand him. Lois, however, always had possessed a knack for getting right to the heart of things. It had only been in the last few months, however, that he had realized that she also had a surprising amount of empathy to accompany it. Empathy wasn't a concept most people would probably associate with Lois. But then, most people got too stuck on the surface layers of her personality to pay any attention to the softer side of Lois Lane, and he was pretty sure that was intentional on her part.

Eventually, Clark felt compelled to break the companionable silence- so rare in Lois's company- by asking, "So, if Oliver's inside, what are you doing out here?"

She rolled off a shrug, a mischievous grin on her lips. "Well, he's busy terrorizing Lionel with his radical views on economic theory, and I saw you sneak out here to come brood for awhile, so I thought I'd come bother you, since I don't have much of an opinion on Adam Smith."

"You have an opinion on everything," he shot back.

"Irrelevant." She paused briefly, then continued, "And speaking of significant others, seeing as Raya's not yours, I guess that explains why I caught you staring at a picture of Lana?"

He let out a heavy sigh and dropped against the couch cushions, eyes closed. "You ever been so confused about what you feel that you just want to kick something?"

Lois laughed. "Yeah, I think I'm familiar with the feeling."

"That's right about where I am right now."

Even with his eyes closed, he could practically hear her sympathetic grimace. "Rough stuff, isn't it?"

"Sometimes I think I'm just about done with it, but then all of a sudden it's like we broke up yesterday. What is that?"

"Life, apparently," she said dryly.

"Maybe I'm just meant to be alone," he muttered.

"Hey!" Her tone was sharp as a gunshot and he opened his eyes instinctively to look at her. "You're a great guy, Smallville. You're not gonna end up alone."

He looked at her skeptically. "Oh yeah? How do you know that?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Clark, you've dated two and a half girls in your entire life- which, might I remind you, is all of twenty years long at this point."

"Two and a half?"

"You took Chloe to a dance once, that only counts as a half."

"Oh."

"Anyway, the point I'm making is that you've spent years pining over Lana and you've never really given yourself a chance to get over it!" she said forcefully. His confusion must have been obvious on his face because she settled down more comfortably on the couch cushions and continued, "Look, the only times you've ever dated, it's been Big Serious Commitment type stuff. And that's great, you know? I applaud your efforts not to be a typical guy who plays with girls' feelings. But it's also gotten you stuck in this rut where I think you honestly believe Lana's the only non-friendzone girl in the world."

Clark opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"No, Clark, you know it's true," she said. "You've got this wall built between you and every other available girl on the planet because you keep waiting on this relationship that you've _never_ been able to make work!"

"Hey, Lana and I worked!" he interjected.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess, for like two months. And then I start getting the phone calls from Chloe complaining about how she's constantly being put in the middle of your drama."

Clark hated that she was kind of right. "What's your point?" he asked.

"My point is that maybe the reason you've never been able to get over her isn't because she's your One True Love or anything, it's because you haven't given yourself a chance to move on."

"I'm trying!" he protested. "You think I want to be stuck in limbo, not really knowing how I feel? Lana and I have been broken up since March-"

"It's not about not being with the person you love- or used to love, or whatever," Lois explained. "It's about making a conscious decision to move on and stop waiting on them. And seeing as you were the one to break up with her in the first place, I'd think that would be easier to do."

Something about her phrasing rang a bell in his memory, and he flashed back to what Raya had said to him two weeks previously about her active attempt to put her feelings for Jor-El behind her. "So you're saying that I haven't been able to move on because... part of me doesn't really want to?"

"I don't know, I'm not your therapist," Lois replied dryly. "But I do think that maybe you should think about it. Maybe step outside your wheelhouse a little."

"What does that even mean?" he asked.

"It means, instead of dating some pretty damsel-in-distress you've been pining after for years, why not ask out some funny girl who catches your eye in a coffee shop or something? Doesn't have to be high stakes or anything," Lois suggested. "Just get out of your comfort zone a little. If nothing else, you might gain a little perspective."

Clark couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. "Who needs the coffee shop girl for perspective when I've got you around to smack me in the face with it?" he asked.

She smirked. "Whole different thing, Smallville," she said. "Whole different thing."

* * *

><p>At the bottom of the stairs, Oliver Queen stood listening as his girlfriend talked and joked with her employer's son with an ease and familiarity that amazed him. He'd come out to offer them both a slice of pie- thankfully Martha Kent's pecan rather than Lois's failed attempt at apple- but at their laughing voices as the conversation carried on had made him pause before announcing his presence.<p>

Lois had insisted that Clark was only a friend. Clark had insisted that Lois had a personality only a mother could love. And yet...

Oliver was pretty sure, in that moment, that his relationship with Lois was doomed to fail one way or another. It wouldn't stop him from trying, because Queens were infamous for dueling with Fate and winning, but he had a sinking feeling that this was one battle where Fate wasn't going to let him come out on top.

After a few moments quiet reflection, he plastered on a grin and jogged up the stairs.

"Anybody want pie?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** Review, pretty please?


	12. 11: Discoveries

**A/N-** I'm surprised that none of you passed comment on the Big Change that occurred last chapter. I mean, if I were reading a fic like this, I probably wouldn't have noticed it either, because I don't know about you guys, but I try to avoid watching Rage as much as possible. However, I'd think a major plot twist (or rather, plot UN-twist) like the one that I dropped (or rather, DIDN'T drop) last chapter would have been mentioned by at least one of you lovely people.

_(Incidentally, thanks for reviewing! I know I thanked you all individually, but I really want to add another blanket thank-you here... your commentary is what keeps me going!)_

Anyway, I'm surprised. After all, it is a pretty big thing that hasn't happened (even though, as we later found out, it didn't _really_ happen at all but everybody thought it did).

* * *

><p>11. Discovery<p>

"_Vows are spoken_  
><em>To be broken.<em>  
><em>Feelings are intense,<em>  
><em>Words are trivial.<em>"  
>-Depeche Mode<p>

* * *

><p>A few days past Thanksgiving found Clark and Raya heading to the Arctic to visit the Fortress.<p>

After Oliver's confession that he just wanted to be like invincible Clark Kent, and his subsequent conviction that he was ready to accept his destiny- on his terms, anyway- Clark had approached Raya with questions about his training.

"The training Jor-El designed for you was a modified and abbreviated version of a typical Kryptonian education," she had explained to him. "We reimagined the old program and customized it for you, specifically. Honing your Kryptonian instincts and mastering the abilities given to us under this yellow sun, a study of physics on a level very different from the way it's understood on this world, and information about the most important cultures in the local galaxy group. Jor-El foresaw that Earth was likely to graduate to Level Four status within a few decades of your arrival on this planet (meaning that the Terran natives will become aware on a global level of the existence of life on other planets and begin the journey to become a part of the galactic community) and he wanted you to be prepared for that eventuality."

"Why?" Clark had asked.

Raya had cocked her head to one side in an unconscious gesture he had noticed she tended to make when she was extrapolating an accurate answer from very little information. "Perhaps he hoped you would see fit to act as a culture bridge between the Terrans and the more agreeable civilizations likely to encounter this little planet in the not-so-distant future. Born as a Kryptonian, raised as a human, you'd be the perfect ambassador."

She had explained in more detail what his training was meant to teach him, and Clark discovered that when confronted with the living face of the woman who had had an active hand in planning it, the idea of submitting himself to Jor-El didn't seem so ominous.

The only difficulty left, as far as Clark was concerned, was that he was reluctant to leave behind his family and friends when he was ready to begin his training. When he voiced this concern, Raya had frowned thoughtfully, then led a northbound race to the Fortress.

Raya fiddled with the main array, reordering several of the crystals in ways that Clark, with his limited knowledge of crystal tech, couldn't even begin to follow.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Still focused on her work, she answered distractedly, "Rewriting a few key parts of the Fortress's relative time field."

Clark gently touched the cool point of one of the crystals, watching her deftly manipulate the interface. "To do what?"

She shot him the briefest glance before returning immediately to what she was doing. "You probably have noticed by now that time runs a little differently in the Fortress."

"Sometimes I'll be up here for hours and when I leave only a few minutes seem to have passed; then other times I come here and somehow lose most of the day."

"Kryptonians had a far better understanding of the fourth dimension, Time, than humans. It was nowhere near what civilizations like the ones of Gallifrey or Harlax had created, but we managed well enough," Raya explained. "We could stretch or compress time to our needs on a local scale, and we even had even rudimentary time travel, as I told you. Within the boundaries of this Fortress, I should be able to reorder the time scales on a temporary basis for you to complete your training. Without the benefit of an uncorrupted Brainiac unit to power and monitor the time field I doubt we'll be able to compress it into a single day. It would drain the Fortress's power supply all over again to achieve that. However, I imagine compressing it into several larger chunks of time might be possible. The kind of education that would normally take years to complete might be distributed over the equivalent of a month, given a few days in between each session to allow for energy replenishment."

"You mean I could... come up here on weekends or something?" Clark asked, flabbergasted. Not for the first time, he marveled at the wonders of Kryptonian technology. "Like night school."

Raya laughed. "If you like," she said. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but essentially yes."

Clark felt a slow grin creeping over his face. Here at last was a way to stay in Smallville- to say nothing of continuing the hunt for the escaped Phantom Zone prisoners- and still complete the training he was growing more and more anxious to begin._ Leave it to Raya to know the perfect solution to the dilemma_, he thought gratefully.

* * *

><p>"Gah, blue shell! Blue shell! <em>Blue shell!<em>"

Lois's fingers flew nimbly over the controller, trying futilely to avoid the projectile launched in her direction. It was a worthless effort, of course, leaving her firmly in last place. "Dammit," she muttered, even as Lana threw her hands up in the air and let out a celebratory squeal.

The two girls sat on the floor in the Talon apartment, playing video games and laughing.

As the race reached its inevitable conclusion, Lois dropped her controller in disgust. "Next time," she pronounced, "We're skipping the Mario Kart and going straight to the Guitar Hero. You might be the Xbox queen, but I'm the Guitar Hero goddess. Even Smallville can't beat me, and believe me, he's spent more of the last three years trying than he will ever admit to."

Lana laughed quite genuinely, although Lois noticed a shadow creep across her eyes the moment Clark was mentioned. "Thank you for suggesting this, Lois," she said. "I really needed it."

"Well, what are friends for?" Lois replied.

"I'm serious. Things have been so weird lately, I'm really glad for an excuse to get out of the mansion for awhile."

Lois's brows drew together in surprise. "Trouble in paradise?" she asked.

"Sort of," she said. "I found out that Lex lied to me."

"About what?"

"Not something terribly important," Lana said. "It's not like he has a second wife in Siberia or anything. It just... well, it makes me wary."

Lois shrugged. "Maybe it should. I'm told lying isn't great for the relationship, even if it's about little things."

Lana nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully. Absently, she reached over and turned off the gaming system. "When Lex and I were friends, he hid things from me," she said. "But we talked about it and I thought I made him understand that I didn't want to be left out of the loop because of some misguided urge to shelter me."

Lois narrowed her eyes, spying the unspoken question in Lana's words. "Why should that change just because you're together now?"

"That's just it- it shouldn't. I'm just not sure how to bring it up."

The taller woman smiled reassuringly. "If it's important to you, I'm sure you'll find a way."

Lana responded to her smile with a grateful grin of her own. However, her expression quickly turned curious as she asked, "You know, everybody's so quick to tell me what they think of our relationship. When Lex and I were on the line between friends and something more, Chloe actually threatened Lex and warned him to stay away from me. God knows Clark hates Lex, even though I can't understand why because they were such good friends once."

Lois kind of thought she might know what had come between them, and she was sitting on the floor next to her right now.

"Even Aunt Nell warned me not to become just another notch in a Luthor bedpost," Lana continued. "But even though I've come to you so many times when I need someone to talk to about this, you've never said a word."

Lois shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I think, does it? It matters what you think."

"But you must have an opinion," Lana replied, a teasing smile on her face. "You usually do." Lois chuckled even as she threw her friend a mock-glare.

"You really want to know? The truth is, I don't like Lex. I think he's a scumbag and a dirty businessman, and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. _But-_" She held up a hand to forestall whatever it was Lana had been about to say. "-I _also_ believe that everybody deserves to be loved, even the less lovable types out there. I don't know if you and Lex are right together, but there's obviously a reason that you chose to be with him, and if it's real to you then you shouldn't have to justify that to anyone else."

Lana's expression was hard to read, but Lois thought she picked up a glimmer of something like gratitude in her look. "That's... a unique perspective," she said after some deliberation.

"Yeah, unique... that's me," Lois said with a roll of her eyes. "Well, at least you appreciate it. Half the time I think Clark only puts up with me because Mrs. Kent likes me for some reason."

Lana looked at her with an expression of sympathy mixed with an emotion Lois couldn't quite identify. "You know that's not true," she said. "Clark cares about you a lot, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Lois grudgingly admitted. Yes, Clark did care about her a great deal, and she cared about him. Probably more than she should, sometimes, especially considering she had a boyfriend (and a wonderful one at that). Clark was a riddle, actually. It was the same conundrum that had hounded her regarding him from the earliest days of their acquaintance. Most of the time he was the same old shy and retiring Clark Kent that his background as a Midwestern farm boy indicated he very well ought to be. Then there were times when Lois caught a glimpse of other sides of him, exciting, intense, powerful facets of his personality that inevitably caught her by surprise. It was a potentially potent mixture, that slightly geeky goody-two-shoes exterior combined with that underlying strength. There were moments when Lois thought she understood what had made her cousin fall so hard for Clark, and that was a line of thinking she _really_ didn't like. Even if she didn't have a man in her life whom she was perfectly pleased with, even if the idea of Clark Kent and Lois Lane weren't so bizarre it was almost laughable, his heart was still all tangled up with Lana and Lois had no desire to put herself in the middle of that mess. She'd seen what it had done to Chloe and she didn't want to go through the same thing... not, of course, that there was any reason she would, seeing as she most definitely didn't have feelings for Clark!

Oblivious to Lois's reflections, Lana said, thoughtfully, "Actually, when I first met you, I was really jealous of you because of Clark."

Pulled from her thoughts, Lois raised her eyebrows skeptically. "What?" she asked, incredulous.

Lana laughed. "Maybe it's silly, but when I first saw you two together... well, I was convinced that if you weren't already dating, you would be before too long."

"You're kidding! Me and Smallville? Not in a million years!"

Lana shrugged. "I don't know. For three years Clark and I had danced around each other, and so many times it seemed like we'd lost our opportunity, but I never really felt afraid of losing him until you came into his life. He's so different around you."

"What do you mean?" Lois asked, trying to sound as though she were scoffing at the very idea.

"I don't know how to explain it," Lana said. "It's just little things. He stands up straighter when you walk in a room. He isn't afraid to relax and just be himself with you the way he sometimes was with me... he doesn't hold back where you're concerned. Even when he and I were dating, I always felt like he was more comfortable with you."

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the things Lana was implying, Lois made a quick decision to alter the flow of this conversation right now. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to orchestrate a pity setup for your ex," she said, a joking note in her voice.

Lana's eyebrows flew up in shock, even as a faintly amused smile settled around her mouth. "Hardly," she replied. "Even if I thought either of you would go for it... I don't know if I'm ready to see him in the arms of someone else yet."

"No matter what the circumstances, it's hard to see someone you loved move on," Lois said sympathetically.

"I guess I should be emotionally prepared for it by now," Lana mused, "but I think it would still be painful."

"You really loved him, didn't you?"

Lana sighed. "Yes. Sometimes I think I still do, and there's a part of me that thinks he might take me back if I just knew what to say to him, but I can't do that. He doesn't trust me. He doesn't even respect me enough to treat me like an adult."

She was right, of course, but Lois's loyalty to Clark compelled her to say, "Clark's always overprotective of people he cares about."

"The difference is, he respects the other people in his life," Lana pointed out. She was emphatic in her declaration, but Lois thought she looked as if she was only saying it because she was reminding herself of all the (very good) reasons why she shouldn't still want Clark. "He may try to protect you and Chloe and Mrs. Kent, but he still lets you have the right to make your own decisions. I don't want to be treated like a five year old who can't understand that the stove is hot. I guess that's why I find it so troubling that Lex hid the truth about the halfway house from me; it feels like someone is making decisions about what's best for me all over again."

Even Lois, queen of the quick tongue, had nothing to say in response to that, and the pair of them lapsed into silence for a moment. Then, in an effort to divert the topic Lois said, "So, this has nothing to do with anything we're talking about, but..." She cast a brief, paranoid glance around the apartment before continuing: "I saw Kal-El."

Lana's eyes widened. "What? When?!"

"You how all those nuclear plants mysteriously went offline two weeks ago? Well, I was inside one of them when it happened, and we were being attacked by... I don't totally know what. Some kind of E.T. type, I guess. Whatever, anyway, Ollie and I were about to be blasted to the other side of the Geiger scale when out of nowhere, Kal-El was suddenly there."

"What did he look like?" the other girl asked eagerly.

Lois shrugged. "I couldn't see his face. He had his back to me the whole time, and it was pretty dark. All I could tell was that he was tall, and I think he might have had dark hair."

"Wow," Lana said. "So he was right there?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He took some kind of energy beam to the chest and scared off the guy who was attacking us."

"Did he say anything?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it was Kal-El?" Lana asked curiously. "There are so many weird things that happen in Smallville..."

"Aside from the fact that Nuclear Freakazoid called him by name?" she asked wryly. Lana snorted. "I feel like I'm getting so close, you know?" Lois continued. "Between this and the spaceship trajectory you tracked from the first meteor shower and... oh, all these little clues... It's like any day now the puzzle pieces are all going to fit together. I feel like there's something I'm missing- something obvious- but whatever it is, I guess I'm just not picking up on it."

Lana shrugged. "If anybody can figure it out, it's you," she said confidently. Lois gave her a puzzled look, and Lana explained, "You're good at getting to the bottom of things. It's what makes you a good reporter. You don't just settle for the surface layer."

Pleased, but uncomfortable with the praise, Lois said, "And I don't settle for second place, either. Speaking of which, are you ready to get your butt handed to you at Guitar Hero?"

* * *

><p>Late autumn sunlight bathed the kitchen of the farmhouse with warmth despite the chill that suffused the air beyond the windowpanes, and it served to increase the already cozy atmosphere of the Kent home. The yellowed grass in the yard might be sparkling with frost, but inside, everything was warm and bright. Two women moved around the room, harmoniously working together to prepare a meal.<p>

"Thank you, Raya," Martha said gratefully. "I think I've just about managed to find a balance between my job responsibilities and keeping this household running, but an extra set of hands to help with dinner is a blessing!"

Raya smiled quietly. "How could I do otherwise? You've been good enough to welcome me into your home. Such open hospitality was rare on Krypton, especially on the southern continent, where I grew up."

Martha set aside the colander of broccoli she was rinsing for a moment and turned to look at her flaxen-haired guest. "It's been good for Clark to have you here," she said. "He's been so confused about Jor-El and about Krypton for several years now, and it's only gotten worse since my husband died. You've given him a window into his heritage."

She nodded. "I've sensed that as well. He's well-intentioned but obviously afraid."

"His early experiences with Jor-El weren't good," Martha explained.

"I know. He told me. If we'd had more time, we might have been able to design a more sympathetic interface for the AI, but in the final days when we were preparing Kal-El's ship, there was too much else to be done. And with the magneto-gravitic fluctuations caused by turbulence in our star's core, we couldn't run calculations for a time matrix and..." She trailed off with a resigned shrug.

"Even with all the knowledge your people had, you can't prepare for everything, can you?" Martha said.

Raya's mouth twisted in a funny sort of half-smirk, half-grimace. "Unfortunately not. Hopefully now that I'm here I can make up for our oversight, at least a little."

The redhead had obvious gratitude on her face as she said, "I think that's something Clark really needs."

Raya tilted her head to one side, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "That's not all he needs, though, is it?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The warrior girl, Lois Lane... Kal-El cares about her, doesn't he?"

Martha's brows drew together quizzically. "They've always been very loyal friends," she conceded in a searching and deliberately noncommittal tone.

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Raya insisted. "Surely you've noticed."

A reluctant, sly smile crept over Martha's lips. "I have," she said. "His friendship with Lois has always been an unusual one. Half the time I think they might kill each other if I leave them alone for more than a minute, and other times I think there's no one he trusts more. I've never been sure what it meant."

Raya leaned back against the counter. "I think I might," she said thoughtfully. "The way he is with her reminds me of how his father behaved toward Lara."

Martha's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "You don't think-?"

"I do. Kal-El is very much his father's son, and I know the signs better than almost anyone. I watched Jor-El fall in love, and unless I'm very much mistaken, Kal-El is headed the same way. I wonder if he has any idea?"

Martha let out a soft chuckle. "I imagine not," she said quietly.

She had always sensed that there was something unique about her son's friendship with her current chief of staff, but she'd never quite been able to put her finger on what it was that made the difference. Clark's relationship with Lana had always been fraught with heartache and doubt, and although she had always supported him in what he wanted, she'd also held a fear that the relationship would prove unhealthy for him in the long run. Clark's friendship with Lois was much more similar to his friendship with Chloe, but even then the relationships were different. Chloe seemed to pull Clark around by the nose sometimes, and he was more than happy to follow her lead most of the time.

And then there was Lois, who was a much bigger personality even than her energetic cousin. By rights Lois should have been able to steamroll right over Clark, but something about her obviously brought out a powerful, stubborn side in him and he rose to her challenge and matched her. And, more intriguingly now that Martha actually stopped to think about it, Lois had the unlikely gift of being able to make Clark laugh. That was a big part of why Martha had always approved of and encouraged their friendship. Her too-serious son seemed to let down his guard around Lois and enjoy a few moments of levity. Even when they were sniping at each other, she had noticed that Clark couldn't quite keep an amused smirk off his face.

Yes, now that Raya had pointed it out, Martha found that she wouldn't be at all surprised if she turned out to be exactly right. As unlikely as it seemed, Clark and Lois could prove to be a very equal match, if only they would open their eyes and see it.

"Does she care for him as well?" Raya asked.

Martha frowned thoughtfully. Lois was dating Oliver Queen, but as much as she could tell Lois liked the handsome billionaire, she could also tell that her young employee wasn't anticipating the relationship lasting. Whether it was a personal neurosis or commentary on the status of their relationship, Martha couldn't be sure, but as long as Lois had that attitude, it wasn't likely to survive regardless. And as far as her relationship to Clark was concerned...

Lois seemed to take an unnatural amount of joy from driving Clark absolutely out of his mind. And Martha had been around the block enough times to recognize the particular female tactic of pushing away defiantly the men who could matter the most.

"I think she does," Martha said.

* * *

><p>Firelight was the only illumination in Lex Luthor's study, and the man himself was sitting on one of the fantastically expensive leather couches and nursing a scotch neat when Dr. Bethany entered the room.<p>

"Hello, Doctor," Lex said without looking away from the lick of flames in the grate before him. "I don't recall a meeting on the books."

"I've just finished analyzing the samples," Bethany said. "I thought you would want to know right away.

At that, Lex not only turned to look at him, he stood up and crossed the room to meet him. "And what have you found out?" he asked.

In reply, Bethany handed him a manila folder, which Lex opened. For several minutes, he flipped through the pages inside, his expression giving nothing away about his reaction to what he was reading. The doctor waited patiently, hands folded, a decidedly smug grin on his face.

At last, Lex looked up. "Very intriguing," he said neutrally. "Are you absolutely sure of this?"

Bethany inclined his head in the affirmative. "I had the Rice boy confirm the diagnosis, and I've run an exhaustive series of tests on the tissue and fluid samples I extracted. Given access to the increasing knowledge-base your research on the subject has produced, I can say with certainty that the margin of error is less than 0.05 percent."

"Even your postulation regarding the original period of infection?"

Bethany nodded. "It's almost a certainty, taking into account the chemical concentration, particularly in her spinal fluid."

"And is she aware of this?"

With a shrug, the doctor said, "It's hard to say. However, given everything I know about the subject's history, I would assume probably not. It's an extremely subtle manifestation, a great deal more so than most of the patients I've dealt with."

Lex pursed his lips, continuing to examine the data with which he had been presented. After a moment, he asked, "And what effect does this have on me?"

At this question, the superior little grin that had been dancing around the edges of Bethany's mouth throughout the interview burst into a full-blown arrogant smirk. "I thought you would be curious about that. I performed a few tests involving the source cells and your own samples. You've postulated before that your exposure in the impact zone of the first meteor shower affected your resilience or immunity somehow, and I've always been inclined to agree with you. After examining the interaction between your samples and hers, I'm certain of it. Something about your unique biochemical structure makes you resistant to the effect. Not completely immune, you understand, but she doesn't have the same influence on you as others."

Even Lex, ever the master of his emotions, couldn't totally prevent the soft sigh and the expression of relief that crept over his face. "That is... reassuring," he said, tone neutral even if his eyes were not.

Bethany hesitated a moment, visibly unsure of his next question but profoundly confident that the information he had delivered was protection enough. "Mr. Luthor, this... _attribute_... could be an extremely valuable asset, particularly to a stealth agent. Is this... is this data relevant to Project Ares?"

"No," Lex snapped. "Absolutely not."

The doctor simply raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"I think you're forgetting, Doctor- _I_ call the shots on Project Ares. Your involvement is low-level at best, and the only reason you actually know the true nature of the project is because I'm paying you enough to keep your mouth shut."

Bethany tilted his head in wry acknowledgement of Lex's accuracy. "Alright then," he said. "I guess I'll be seeing myself out then." He turned and headed for the side door to the study.

Before he could reach it, however, Lex called out: "Oh, and Dr. Bethany?"

The surgeon glanced back over his shoulder.

"You tell anyone about this, and the consequences will be a lot more severe than the loss of your off-the-books income."


	13. 12: Appear, Disappear part 1

**A/N-** Apologies for the delay. I was moving into a new apartment and the necessary work that comes with that kind of overwhelmed me for awhile. I should also warn you that the new school year is starting and I have a new job, so although posting should still occur regularly with this story, the gaps between updates will probably be a little longer than they were this past month or so.

Originally, this chapter was also supposed to involve Lois visiting the caves, but seeing as I realized I had something much more excellent to include for her in this chapter (as well as an explanation of where she was while Lex was Being Missing), I decided it was more appropriate to include that particular adventure next chapter... plus sending Lois underground during Subterranean just plain seems more appropriate with the theme of the episode...

Anyway, just so we're clear on the timeline, this picks up about 6 days after Thanksgiving. The chapter is split into two posts because it's extremely long. Expect the second post in a week or so, as it's not yet complete.

* * *

><p>12. Appear, Disappear<br>(part 1)

"_I don't care, I don't care, and in the darkened underpass _  
><em>I thought 'Oh God, my chance has come at last'<em>  
><em>But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask<em>."  
>-The Smiths<p>

* * *

><p>He was trying to fly, but starting from the top of the rickety old windmill on Greg Leeson's back field was turning out to be a terrible plan, Clark reflected.<p>

Admittedly, if you had asked him even a month ago, he probably would have said that trying this at all was a terrible plan. He had been perfectly happy being earthbound. And then Raya had fallen into his life and rearranged his worldview dramatically. For years, he had been terrified of his Kryptonian side. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge that part of himself. Over the past weeks however, a revolution had occurred within him.

He wasn't afraid anymore. Not of this, anyway. There was still so much about himself and his place in the world that he did not understand, but he felt that this, at least, he was ready for.

The fact that Raya was flaunting her ability to defy gravity all over the place was certainly not helping things. Clark wasn't sure whether she was doing it intentionally to annoy him or not, but it was becoming increasingly commonplace for her to just drift up from the ground when she was thinking hard on a particular problem, pacing on the air. Sometimes she would just sit in mid-air while they were talking. In fact, she was doing that right now. She was dressed in a pretty green sundress, perched cross-legged on nothing next to him, a grin on her face as she watched him psyche himself up for the leap from the top of the windmill.

He was pretty sure she spent more time above the ground than walking on it, and he found that it unexpectedly drove him crazy.

In point of fact, he was surprised by that. Maybe he shouldn't have been. He had always equated his latent power of flight with Kal-El and all the connotations that name carried. So maybe it shouldn't have shocked him so much that with the cessation of his mistrust of his Kryptonian heritage, so ceased his reservations about flying as well. Despite the logic of it, though, he still almost couldn't believe it when he found himself asking Raya to help him learn. This was what had brought him here, to the top of the rusting windmill, looking out over the table-flat fields with a swimming head.

It turned out that even though his fear of learning to fly had abated, his fear of heights hadn't suffered the same fate.

"Just take a deep breath and let go of all the things that are cluttering up your mind," Raya suggested.

"Yeah, easy for you to say," he muttered, trying not to look at the distance to the ground.

She laid a sisterly hand on his shoulder. "That's exactly what I mean," she said with a knowing smirk. "You need to turn off all those doubting words inside your head. If you are anything like your father, you fear heights because the space between Earth and Infinity is an unknown to you. It is the terror of the unknown that lies at the root of your phobia."

Clark stared at her. "You seem awfully certain of that," he hedged. The fact was, once he had heard her put it that way, she was startlingly correct. It wasn't the way he would have explained it, if you had asked him, but she had improbably hit on the truth.

Raya's blue-green eyes twinkled. "You're Kryptonian," she pointed out, somewhat redundantly. "We are a people of great passion, but governed powerfully by reason. No matter how you were raised, that's in your blood. You are virtually indestructible. Ergo, fearing heights for their own sake would be illogical. There must obviously be a deeper metaphysical angst at the source. Having observed your nature in these past weeks, it wasn't difficult to determine what that might be."

He snorted in amusement. "You really are a scientist," he said, grinning.

"Deduce and conquer," she replied. "It's an approach to life you might want to remember, Kal-El. Now let's stop stalling, shall we?"

Clark rolled his shoulders and swallowed a few reassuring lungfuls of sweet country air. He felt his muscles tense in preparation. He could do this. He _could._ "Embrace the unknown, right?" he asked of the empty sky. Did his voice sound nervous? He thought he sounded nervous. The little platform at the top of the windmill didn't afford very much room, but there was enough space for him to take a few steps. Maybe a running start... He backed up.

One, two, three running steps and he was pushing off into space. He had almost faltered at the edge, but forced himself onward, and he was hurtling up, up, up with the force of his leap, high into the Kansas sunshine...

* * *

><p>"Don't be too hard on yourself," Raya said consolingly as they entered the Talon. "It was only a first lesson, after all."<p>

Clark's eyebrows rose. "I threw myself off that windmill a good thirty times!" he protested. "I didn't so much as hover. And to top it all off, I _broke_ the windmill!"

Raya chuckled at the indignation in his voice... and probably also at the memory of him tumbling headfirst to the ground in complete surprise as the force of his attempted liftoff had shattered the platform under him. "Well, you fixed it, didn't you?" she pointed out.

"Beside the point."

The morning's lesson had mostly been a wash, even forgetting about Clark breaking and subsequently repairing the platform at superspeed, but he couldn't help the smile that sat on his face. He felt as though he'd been in limbo for a long time, probably since his dad had died, just trapped in one place. He'd quit school, he'd avoided Jor-El and any mention of destiny, and his relationship with Lana had stalled and eventually ended. Upon reflection, it felt as though a huge part of him had died right alongside Jonathan, simply shutting down and refusing to walk forward from that horrible moment when he had lost the man who had raised him. Today, though, he had taken concrete action on the changes he had begun to feel in himself. Even with his flying lesson ending in catastrophic failure, he still felt like he had a goal again. He had something he was working toward that didn't bear with it some guilty baggage he would have to shoulder. It felt... good. _Really_ good.

As the pair of them approached the counter he saw Lois, wearing a pair of those painted-on jeans of hers under a green Talon apron, working the cappuccino machine.

"Hey, Lois," he greeted warmly. "What are you doing back behind the counter?"

She threw the barest glance over her shoulder at him before turning her attention back to her task. "When I got down here I found out Mindy or Cindy or whoever overslept and she's late for her shift so I offered to step in until she gets here." Lois finally finished her argument with the persnickety machine and turned to face him properly. Her expression, previously a little irritated, softened unexpectedly into a smile. "Nice to see you're in such a good mood for once, Smallville," she informed him. "Hi Raya. What can I get you guys?"

Clark ordered his usual- black coffee with triple sugar- and Lois turned expectantly to Raya. The blonde was staring at the specials board in bafflement. For a long moment she was quiet.

"Well?" Lois prompted. "Anything for you?"

Raya turned a little pink in embarrassment. "I honestly don't know. I've never had any of these drinks before," she finally confessed.

"You've never had coffee?" Lois asked, absolutely stunned.

Clark had to work to hide his amusement, unsurprised that Lois "Triple Espresso And Make It Quick" Lane couldn't fathom someone having somehow missed sampling the beverage that was her life's blood.

"What black hole have you been living in?" Lois continued. Not noticing the faint wince both Clark and Raya made, thinking of the Phantom Zone, Lois continued, "Well, don't worry. I can whip you up the perfect drink in no time! Do you have much of a sweet tooth?"

Raya shrugged. "Not much, I guess. I love caramel, though. Martha Kent made some for me last week."

Lois grinned at her. "Doesn't Mrs. K make the best candies in the world? Well, no worries, Raya. I am the caramel-coffee infusion expert!" she proclaimed. "Lana taught me everything she knows and I love to experiment, besides. We'll get you set up in style! Nothing too sweet, but with something to balance the bitterness of the espresso..." After a moment of thought, she snapped her fingers and her already broad grin became luminous. "Ha! I've got just the thing! Just give me a few minutes."

One of the other waitresses had fetched Clark's drink, so he and Raya made their way over to one of the recessed booths at the wall, which would afford them a little more privacy than a table in the middle of the room would do. Clark held off on drinking his coffee, the good manners his parents had taught him kicking in and making him wait until Raya had her own beverage.

The older woman's keen eyes were following the whirlwind that was Lois as she all but danced around the area behind the counter, preparing at least three drinks at once even as she took a new order from Jake, the mail carrier for the west end of town. "I can see why you like her so much," Raya observed.

"What?" Clark asked, taken by surprise by her unexpected comment.

She shrugged. "I noticed it at Thanksgiving. You respond to her differently. Now I understand why."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got quite the personality. In some ways I would say she's almost Kryptonian, and yet, she's so very human... paradoxical, but it works for her."

Clark rubbed at his mouth in an attempt to suppress a grin. "Paradoxical would definitely be one way to describe Lois," he agreed.

Raya nodded absently, now studying him closely. "What do you think of her? _Really_ think of her, I mean? I've spent enough time in conversation with Martha Kent that I know something of how you interact with your friends, but her description of your friendship with Lois Lane was... confusing to me."

Clark wondered what Raya was getting at. He could sense that she was driving at something, she had some point she would eventually get around to making, but he couldn't see where she was headed. He hoped she wasn't about to become yet another in the long list of people who had mistaken his and Lois's innocent flirting for a real romance. "I guess our friendship is a little unorthodox," he said, trying to lead her away from that conclusion. "We tease each other a lot, which I guess Mom probably told you. I just... I don't have to be careful with her. She knows me well enough to know I'm not really serious, and I know she's not really serious."

"That doesn't surprise me. She strikes me as perceptive," Raya remarked.

He nodded extremely enthusiastically, a simultaneously amused and slightly worried look coming over his face. Lois certainly was perceptive. It made it all the more worrisome that she was so close on the trail of Kal-El, and all the stranger that she had never seemed to notice that there was something odd about Clark Kent.

Before he could give voice to that thought, however, the woman in question plunked a large white mug down in front of Raya, the contents of which were one false move away from pouring over the sides. "Here you are," she said proudly. "Caramel-flavored cappuccino with double espresso and extra whip. Tasty, but not diabetes-inducing."

She set a second, equally large and equally full mug on the table, and sat down in the empty chair to Clark's left. "You don't mind if I join you guys, do you?" she asked. "_Wendy_ just got here so they don't need me anymore, and I still haven't had my morning java and-"

"Of course," Clark said immediately. "Take a seat, Lois, why don't you?" he raised an eyebrow at her already seated form.

She shot him a little smirk, and buried herself in her own coffee. Her eyes closed in bliss and she moaned softly into the rim of the cup. "Oh my _god_, that's good." She savored the first sip for a few moments longer, then opened her eyes and looked across at Raya. "How's your coffee?"

Raya, who had been watching the two across from her in amusement, sampled her drink tentatively. Her eyes widened. "Oh," she said. "That's... wonderful. How do you make this?"

"Stick with me, kid," Lois said with an over-dramatized wink. "We'll have you rivaling my cousin Chloe's caffeine intake in no time."

Clark laughed out loud at her antics. Sometimes it surprised him how genuinely funny Lois could be. She often defaulted to sarcasm, but she also had a great sense of humor when she wasn't on the defensive.

The three of them engaged in idle conversation, joking and laughing and savoring their coffee, for nearly ten minutes. Clark and Lois regaled Raya with tales of their exploits in the days before she had arrived in Smallville. Lois's dramatic retelling of Clark's attempt at "distracting" a morally grey cheerleader in possession of a love potion had the older woman in stitches and Clark's face flushing scarlet as he tried to sink as far into his seat as his height would allow.

The conversation found its way to Mrs. Kent's senatorial work.

"Actually, it's funny you should bring it up," Lois said thoughtfully. "One of the things that's up for a vote is a few changes to the state's deportation policy, and I was compiling some information on the subject for your mom, and I started noticing that the numbers didn't add up."

"What do you mean?" Raya asked.

"It's just little discrepancies," she said, expression animated and hands gesturing enthusiastically as she explained. "Census counts that are a little off, worker registration numbers that don't add up, that kind of thing. I might not have noticed it, but the thing is, the numbers are only like that in Lowell County. There's something just a little off, and it's so specifically local that... I don't know. I just feel like there's something going on."

Clark raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like a job for an investigative reporter with access to sources at the highest level of government," he said with a pointed smirk.

At that precise moment, his cell phone buzzed with a text from Chloe. _Meet me DP. It's urgent._

"Well, we should head out," he said as casually as he knew how. "I forgot I was supposed to meet Chloe."

Lois frowned. "I thought she was at the Planet," she said.

He fumbled a little in searching for an answer before Raya piped up, "Oh, you're right!" she said with the ease of a practiced liar. "We're going to be so late for lunch! We'd better leave now if we're going to make it to Metropolis before she goes back to work."

The curious look on Lois's face relaxed into a more neutral expression and a friendly smile. "Alright, well, I guess I'll be seeing you guys then."

* * *

><p>After Clark and Raya vacated with remarkable alacrity, Lois couldn't help but wonder if she'd somehow put her foot in it. It wouldn't be the first time she'd offended someone into making a hasty exit, but usually it wasn't her friends and usually she knew exactly what she'd said to piss people off. Well, Clark at least could never be mad at her for long, and Raya seemed pretty laid-back so hopefully if it was her she'd managed to offend, she'd forgive her quickly as well. Lois hoped so. She liked Raya, and hoped she'd be able to call the older woman a friend.<p>

For the time being, however, there was no point in fretting about it, so Lois opted to head upstairs to change into something a little more professional. Strictly speaking, she had the day off work, but Mrs. Kent was in the office and so Lois felt it couldn't hurt for her to turn up and put in a few hours herself.

When she entered the apartment, however, she was caught off guard by a tap on the shoulder. Instinctively she lashed out with the flat of her hand, but her fingers were captured in a strong grip, and a very surprised Lois was pulled into a passionate kiss with her boyfriend.

"Not exactly the welcome I was expecting, I admit," Oliver said when he released her lips, grinning pointedly at the attacking hand he still held captive.

Lois couldn't help but smile back, but her eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. "How did you even get in here?" she asked. "The door was locked, and I was downstairs the whole time!"

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," he teased, "and you're way too beautiful for that."

"You sure know how to flatter a girl," she said flirtatiously.

She wondered if his unexpected presence in her apartment was a sign that they were finally on the path to intimacy. Lois wasn't the type of girl to just jump in bed with a guy no matter how hot he was, so they'd been holding back on the physical side of their relationship despite the forward advance he'd attempted to make after their first date. And admittedly, that was a good thing. Their relationship had been a little rocky lately, even discarding the drama that went down around Thanksgiving, and a part of Lois still felt very emotionally detached from him despite the chemistry.

Still... he was _really_ hot. And their steamier make-out sessions had left her... well, a little frustrated. Oliver had respected her wishes to put off intimacy for awhile a little too well, honestly.

"That's me," he replied with a devastatingly charming smirk. "King of Smooth."

"I believe that's _Queen_ of Smooth, mister."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard this a million times, can we move past the name jokes already?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On what you plan on bribing me with."

He looked at her smugly. "Well, how would two burning-hot tickets to a concert in Wichita do?"

"Sold!" Lois proclaimed immediately. Then, pretending to be thoughtful, she said, "Now who on Earth should I take with me...?"

He rolled his eyes and kissed her.

"Oh, I guess I could take you," she said with a sigh, as if it were a great burden to do so.

"I was under the impression that _I_ was taking _you_, Miss Lane."

"Yeah, well, never trust a first impression," she said cheekily. "When is said concert?"

"Tomorrow night," he said.

She grinned. "I get off work at four," she said.

* * *

><p>Considering it was just past noon, Clark was amazed to see that there were only two other people besides Chloe in the Daily Planet basement when he and Raya reached the bottom of the stairs.<p>

"Oh, Raya, it's good you're here, too," Chloe said, a noticeably stressed note in her voice, as she caught sight of them.

"You said it was urgent," Clark said.

The blonde grabbed both Clark and Raya by the elbows and hauled them into the copy room. "It is," she said, glancing through the door to make sure the other Planet basement-dwellers weren't paying them any attention. She turned to face them again and handed Clark a computer printout of her info. "A Taiwanese cargo ship was found off the coast of Alaska with its entire crew dead of unknown causes. The details are a bit murky, but the manifest says that its last stop was Bellona Island."

"Bellona Island?" Clark asked, remembering the familiar name immediately.

Raya inclined her head thoughtfully. "I've seen your satellite images, Kal-El," she said. "Wasn't that island hit by something they thought was a meteor after we escaped the Phantom Zone?"

Chloe grimaced and nodded.

"Where's the ship now?" Clark asked.

"It's being towed to Seattle," Chloe informed him.

He glanced at Raya, whose face bore an equally grim expression. She was as concerned about stopping the escaped Zoners as he was, and the determined line her mouth had settled into it told him everything he needed to know. "We have to go to Seattle," he said.

She nodded her head just once, a staccato confirmation.

"Are you sure that's such a great idea?" Chloe asked. "I mean, these guys aren't exactly run-of-the-mill meteor freaks. They're dangerous, even to you."

Raya had always been sympathetic to Chloe in the past, so Clark was surprised to see his Kryptonian friend draw herself up to a very erect posture. There was a somewhat haughty look on her face as she informed Chloe, "You know Kal-El's true identity, Chloe, but you don't seem to truly understand the power a Kryptonian on Earth has at their disposal. There are many powerful beings in the universe, and on Krypton we were easy prey to them before our science developed and gave us the power to contend on a galactic level even when our skin bled and our bones broke. Under this yellow sun of your world, we are vulnerable only to the rarest of attacks. Do not underestimate Kal-El's ability, or mine. Between the two of us, disposing of the remaining phantoms will not be difficult. We will go armed with the crystal of the House of El to entrap the escapee."

Chloe's eyebrows rose. "Sorry," she said. "I just don't want to see my friends get hurt."

Almost as quickly as her hackles had risen, Raya softened again. "You are a loyal friend, Chloe Sullivan," she commended. "But do not be blindly loyal. It may do more harm than good."

The look on Chloe's face was one of baffled surprise and she opened her mouth to question Raya's statement, but before she could speak, her phone rang. She scurried to the other side of the copy room to answer it and exchanged a few hushed words with the person on the other end of the line, her voice rising in concern as the conversation went on. After a brief, sincere assurance of assistance, she hung up and turned back to face the two Kryptonians in the room.

"That was Lana," she said, sounding dazed. "Lex just mysteriously disappeared."

Clark hesitated. The part of him that was still pulling Lex from that totaled Porsche was telling him to search for his friend. A sheltered, hurting part of his heart compelled him to fly to Lana's side and aid her however he could. But his conscience was thinking of Seattle, of whatever was on that cargo ship that might soon be unleashed on the unsuspecting citizens if he didn't stop it.

"I have to go to Seattle," he said softly.

"Clark, I know Lex isn't exactly your pick for man of the year, but-"

Before Chloe could get another word in, Raya spoke up over her: "I will go to Seattle."

The other two stared at her.

She shrugged. "I know the way to the city. I survived two global civil wars and twenty years in the Phantom Zone. I am perfectly capable of trapping a phantom by myself. Clark is needed here. It is only logical that I handle this threat on the West Coast."

"Are you sure?" Clark asked.

"Stay," she said, impressing her certainty on him with the look she gave him. She laid a hand on his arm in a sisterly gesture. "Look for Lex Luthor. Help your friends."

Clark hesitated, then nodded. "Go."

"Kick its ass," Chloe added.

Raya grinned at her, then vanished. She left nothing behind but a trail of unsettled papers flying in her wake.

* * *

><p>Lana was wrapped up in a heavy sweater, charcoal in color, when Chloe and Clark arrived. She hadn't expected to see Clark there, but his presence was actually a comfort to her. On any other day it would just have been awkward and painful to be around him but today, with the other man she loved missing, she was reassured by the solidity of him.<p>

The pair of them actually believed her about what had happened to Lex. She was relieved. Even Lionel, who was as wrapped up in the strange goings-on in Smallville as anyone, had tried to dismiss what she had seen- Lex turning to static before vanishing right before her eyes- as a trick of the dark. But of _course_ Chloe, Wall of Weird curator, had believed her. Clark, too, was in her corner. Despite the stilted atmosphere that always existed between them now, he sincerely offered her his support just as he always had.

"So, where exactly was Lex when he vaporized?" Chloe asked.

Lana showed her the location, and Chloe suggested hacking into Lex's security footage on his computer in order to try to find some clue. As they tried to crack his password, Clark was silent, his head tilted to one side and a puzzled look on his face. Lana wondered what he was thinking about.

Finally, they exhausted all the likely passwords that Lana could think of off the top of her head, and she sighed in frustration, beginning a frantic pacing in front of the glass-topped desk.

"Don't worry, we'll just upload the whole hard drive, and I'll work on it later," Chloe said in a kind attempt at reassurance.

Lana ran a hand through her hair distractedly. "Chloe, the way he disappeared... what if..."

Even after her reassuring conversation with Lois a few days previously, she had still been uneasy in her relationship with Lex. Love and mistrust had warred in her heart. She knew that Lex had been dishonest with her about some things, but she also thought she knew why. He was afraid she wouldn't accept him if she knew the full depth of his darker sides, sides that he was still exploring behind closed doors. It was a feeling she knew all too well. Right from the beginning in her relationship with Clark, she had been so afraid that he would someday see all the sides she herself kept hidden. Someone as pure as Clark would surely be disgusted by all the things that squirmed inside her at times, and so she had hidden it as best she could, had almost fooled herself that she could really be the person Clark wanted her to be... who she used to think she wanted to be before he broke her down. And Lex was doing the same thing to her, now, because he feared losing her.

"What if Lex is really gone? Forever?" she asked in a panicked whisper.

"You can't think that way, Lana," Clark said firmly.

"Yeah, we're gonna get him back," Chloe added.

"I've had so many doubts about this relationship, so many suspicions. But now that he's gone, none of it matters anymore. I just want to see his face again," she confessed quietly.

And she was ashamed to admit that part of the reason she said it was that she wanted to see how Clark would react.

* * *

><p>Once Chloe had reassured Lana that they would do everything they could to find Lex and calmed the nearly hysterical young woman down, they left the mansion. Clark sped them back to the Planet, so Chloe could work her magic on the downloaded hard drive she had retrieved from Lex's computer.<p>

The blonde set about her work while Clark looked on from the neighboring desk. For several minutes, Chloe's fingers tapped on the keyboard and Clark's fingers tapped tensely on the desktop. He hadn't realized how tense or quiet he had become until Chloe pushed herself back from the desk and swiveled in the chair to face him.

"Alright, what is it, Clark?" she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Lana really loves him, doesn't she?"

Chloe gave him a sympathetic smile that ended up looking more like a grimace. "I think she does," she said gently.

"All this time... I guess there was a part of me that still thought she was only with him to hurt me, or because he had manipulated her into it, but... her feelings for him are more real than I thought," Clark said.

He was having a slow epiphany. From the moment he had first seen Lana and Lex kissing in the study he had been convinced that, whatever he'd decided about his relationship with Lana being dangerous for her, he had to rescue her from Lex. He had to protect her. He'd known that Lex's affection was genuine (and that had made him all the more frightened for her, because he'd experienced firsthand what could come of being loved by Lex Luthor), but he'd always thought that Lana had been tricked into it somehow. Maybe, though, just maybe...

Maybe Lana really did love Lex. And maybe Lana could be the one to save him. From the moment they had met, Clark had been trying to save Lex Luthor, but despite everything, he'd never been able to protect him from himself. Lana, though, might just be able to reach him in a way that Clark had never been able to.

Maybe this was best for everyone, after all. He was still terrified out of his mind that Lana didn't know what she was getting into, given what he knew about Lex's dark side, but maybe it was so crazy it would actually work.

Right then and there, Clark made a decision. He was going to respect Lex and Lana's relationship, even if it hurt. He would still be there to protect Lana from danger, and if he got even a hint that Lex was going to hurt her (advertently or not), he would do everything in his power to get her away from him. But while the status quo remained as it was now, he would keep his distance.

While he had been having this revelation, Chloe continued to speak.

"I'm sorry, Clark," she said. "I know this must be really hard for you to see."

In the past, he might have immediately brought out this new thought of his to sound off on Chloe's advice radar, but this was something he wanted to keep to himself for awhile. It felt terrifyingly like moving on, and he wanted to ruminate on that by himself for awhile before talking to Chloe about it.

Therefore, he moved on to the other reason he had been so quiet and thoughtful since leaving the mansion. "Chloe, the password..." he said slowly. "Try Lana's birthday."

Chloe raised a skeptical eyebrow, but typed in the characters nonetheless. Immediately, the login screen cleared, replaced by the main page of the LuthorCorp intranet and a replication of Lex's desktop.

Chloe whipped around in her seat to stare at him. "A lucky guess would be too obvious, right?" she asked.

"The whole time we were in the study, I could swear... I'm _sure_ I heard Lex's voice. But it was really weird, like he was on a radio with a bad signal, he kept fading in and out and I could hardly hear anything clearly. The only thing I managed to catch was that the password was Lana's birthday, and I only heard that because he repeated it so many times."

Chloe chewed at her lip. "Like a radio?" she asked.

"Like a radio," he confirmed.

A thoughtful look crossed her face, a smile following close behind us. "I might know someone who can help us."

* * *

><p>Raya picked her way carefully around the Seattle dockyards, hearing tuned for any unusual sounds.<p>

She had arrived on the coast about an hour previously, and what she had discovered was distinctly unnerving. There were dozens of victims, both from the crew of the ship and a handful of dock workers who had been found after the cargo ship was towed to shore. The phantom, whoever it was, was on shore and it was imperative that she find him before he killed again.

She had scanned a few times with her X-ray vision, but if the phantom was inhabiting a human, that wouldn't do her much good and she had found nothing. Either the host was manifesting no physiological differences that her special vision would pick up, or the phantom had some kind of cloaking ability to protect itself from detection.

The _modus operandi_ was unfamiliar to her. She knew of many of the criminals imprisoned in the Zone, both from her time on Krypton and her personal exile, but this was one brand of evisceration she wasn't familiar with. The victims were ripped limb from limb, their bones drained of their marrow or in some cases missing entirely, left as little more than quivering lumps of scarlet flesh and random internal organs.

All at once, her hearing picked up a faint cry for help from the far end of the docks. She launched herself into the air and in less than a second was dropping in on a dock worker caught in the hands of a goliath of a man who was preparing to shred him like so much paper.

She pulled the man free and deposited him several yards away. "Run!" she commanded. The terrified man didn't hesitate, sprinting away as fast as a human could.

"You stole my food!" the Zoner growled in a stoney, rumbling voice, grabbing her.

Raya raised Jor-El's crystal, but even before she had touched it she knew it would be futile. The moment she'd gotten a clear look at the beast that clutched her by the throat, she knew that he was not a phantom possessing a host. He was a corporeal being. Her crystal was useless.

"Nice try, Blue-eyes," he said with a hoarse bark of laughter.

Ray twisted in his grip, not in pain but in a desperate attempt to throw him off so she could attack directly. However, with the angle at which she was being held, it was fruitless, and before she could free herself, he had hurled her away from him. She went cartwheeling through the sky, and although she managed to right herself before she crashed into a crane tower, by the time she got her bearings, the Zoner was gone. Clearly her guess had been right and he had some kind of stealth power in addition to his ghastly strength.

This was going to be interesting. And she didn't think she was going to like it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** Part 2 will be coming in... oh, I should imagine not more than a week or two. In the meanwhile, I appreciate your reviews should you choose to leave them.


	14. 12: Appear, Disappear part 2

**A/N-** Alright, here it is! Part 2 of Appear, Disappear. Hope you enjoy it! *cackles wickedly*

* * *

><p>12. Appear, Disappear<br>(part 2)

"_Not even earth can hold us_  
><em>Not even life controls us<em>  
><em>Not even the ground can keep us down<em>  
><em>The memories in my head<em>  
><em>Are just as real the time we spent<em>  
><em>You always be close to me, my friend<em>  
><em>This is not the end<em>."  
>-Bravery<p>

* * *

><p>When Oliver had produced what he proclaimed to be the hottest tickets in town, Lois had been anticipating Aerosmith or a Bangles reunion tour or something. She had most definitely not signed up for yet another round of The All-American Rejects.<p>

She supposed it was sweet of Oliver to take her to a concert by the band that had been playing during that first pseudo-date at Lex's benefit masquerade. Ordinarily, it would have been the kind of thoughtful move to give her butterflies, but they hadn't really been together long enough for it to carry much weight. If they'd been together over a year, if it was some kind of retrospective thing, she would have put up with music not to her taste in order to join him in a trip down memory lane. Two and a half months- good months though they had been- didn't justify it, not yet.

But relationships were about give and take, and so she pasted on a smile and swayed back and forth to the beat and pretended for Oliver's sake that she loved rock designed for those just leaving the teenybopper phase. She held his hand and she let him kiss her and kept up a great pretense for the first half of the show.

During the short break between sets, though, Oliver ducked out to fetch them some drinks, and Lois let out a sigh of relaxation. Keeping up the Happy Lois mask was taking its toll, and once he was out of sight it was an almost physical relief, like she'd zipped herself up in a too-tight dress and was finally home and able to free herself. Lois Lane was not a woman made for pretenses. A few minutes where she didn't have to pretend she was exactly where she wanted to be would be wonderful.

The concert was being held in an open-air football stadium. Oliver (being Oliver) had gotten them seats on the field, right up in front of the stage. Lois took the opportunity of his absence to wander past the metal barricades to approach the now-empty platform, inspecting the setup curiously.

A few roadies were scurrying over and around the stage, resetting the lights and equipment in preparation for the next set. She watched them work with intent eyes.

One of them, a short black man about her own age, hopped down off the stage. He wiped a thin layer of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and swore softly under his breath.

"Rough night?" she asked sympathetically.

The guy glanced at her in surprise, and shrugged. "No worse than usual," he said, casting an appreciative eye over her form-fitting jeans and the provocative emerald shirt she'd chosen with Oliver in mind. Lois ignored it- boys would be boys.

"I always thought it'd be cool to work as a roadie," she commented off-handedly. "Getting to see behind the scenes on all the different bands..."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, putting up with every prima donna and his drug habits, it's a real dream job," he said with a wry smirk.

She grinned, taking a liking to the young man. Despite his obvious bad mood, there was something immediately warm and likable about him. "You know what I mean, though," she said.

He nodded. "Sure, but this is Wichita. We don't exactly get big names coming through here too often. Can't speak for everybody, but I know for me, a job is a job. And the pay? Sucks."

Lois grimaced. "I hear ya," she said.

"It's getting to be a real problem, apparently," he said. He cast a thoughtful glance at her, then said in a conspiratorial tone, "I'll be straight with you, some of the other guys are seriously talking about a strike."

Lois's interest was beyond piqued. This otherwise snore-inducing night had suddenly gotten very, very engaging. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Pete," he said.

"Lois Lane," she replied in kind. "I'm a freelance reporter."

His eyebrows rose. "Shoulda guessed," he remarked under his breath, with a soft smile she didn't understand on his face.

"Tell me more about this situation, Pete," she said. "Do you guys have a union...?"

* * *

><p>Clark arrived in the Planet basement the next morning, having received a call from Chloe that she might have a possible lead. He was unsurprised to find Jimmy attending her when he caught up with them. The day before, Chloe had suggested that with her new beau's background in radio tech, he might be able to provide them with some insight if Clark's radio static lead actually panned out into anything concrete.<p>

"I know that _Lex Luthor Lost_ is a juicy headline, but tell me again why we're searching for the root of all evil?" Jimmy asked as Clark entered the room.

"I'm not doing this for Lex," Chloe said. "After talking to Lana, I've got to put my skepticism in check. I mean, she really cares about him."

Jimmy laughed. "Women are such a mystery."

"Amen to that," Clark said, by way of announcing his presence.

"Hey, CK," Jimmy said good-naturedly. "Are you here to help with the search for the man nobody misses?"

Clark couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm that belied the other man's cynical words. It was pretty clear that Jimmy had that same fired-up attitude about getting to the bottom of a mystery, any mystery, that was Lois's hallmark as a reporter. He might not like Lex much, but it was plain that he was perfectly willing to dive head-long into the search.

"Yeah," Clark replied. "I may not be a reporter, but I'm pretty good at finding needles in haystacks."

Jimmy grinned broadly, and opened his mouth to reply, but at that exact moment, Chloe exclaimed, "Lana!"

Clark turned and saw his ex standing there, looking pale and very drawn about the mouth. She didn't appear to have put on much makeup, and although her clothes were as tastefully-selected as ever, her ordinarily well-groomed hair looked a little unkempt. Sympathy filled him, quite unexpectedly. Clearly she was really worried for Lex.

"The hunt for Lex is on!" Jimmy proclaimed heartily.

Lana smiled thinly. "Thank you, Jimmy," she said with a sincere effort at warmth. She looked around to include Clark and Chloe in her next statement: "Thank you guys for being here. I don't know what I would have done without-" She broke off, her throat audibly closing down on her as her eyes clouded up.

"Hey, we're here for you," Chloe said, putting a concerned hand on her friend's arm. "And we might have found something."

She guided Lana over to her desk. Clark and Jimmy followed the girls.

"I was able to access Lex's surveillance files, and there's one particular still from the other night that you might wanna take a look at."

Chloe pulled up the image in question, a captured frame from security footage of the night Lex vanished. Immediately, Clark's eyes were drawn to a spot in the middle of the picture. Directly in front of Lex's seizing form, there was a spark of... he wasn't sure what. It looked a bit like snow on a television screen, but here it was appearing in mid-air.

"What is that?" Jimmy asked.

"Can you clear it up?" Lana asked simultaneously.

Chloe shrugged. "There's not a lot to work with," she said apologetically, "But I'll do my best."

Lana's cell rang. She answered, and after a brief exchange with whoever was on the other end, she muffled the mouthpiece of the phone against her black woolen jacket. "It's Lex's security," she said. "They want to give me an update. Excuse me."

She bustled out of the bullpen, leaving the other three still staring at the computer screen.

"I gotta say, CK," Jimmy said, "It's really big of you being here. I mean, seeing as you and Lana used to be... whatever." He fumbled a little over it, clearly having started out with the intention of saying something a great deal more blunt, as was his wont, but rethinking halfway through his sentence.

Clark shrugged. "Just because she's with someone else doesn't mean I want her to be unhappy," he replied.

Jimmy's eyebrows went up in an almost comical fashion. "That's impressive," he said. "If I ever let Chloe get away, and some guy she was dating went missing, I'm not sure I could be that generous."

Clark shot the briefest of glances at the blonde, who had bitten her lower lip in response to Jimmy's statement. He wasn't sure whether if it was from discomfort or from appreciation of the sentiment, but it suddenly made her look stunningly like her cousin.

At that moment, Lana stuck her head back around the corner. "Clark, Chloe... I have to go," she said. "If you find anything else, please let me know, but there's... um... something back at the mansion that I need to attend to. Jimmy, thank you for your help."

The other three called out polite goodbyes as Lana all but fled up the stairs.

Clark watched Lana go with a baffled expression. He had never been able to see Lana's heart the way he had wanted to, but he still knew her very well. And he knew that something wasn't quite right. It wasn't just that Lex was missing. Something had changed just in the last few minutes. He wondered if it had really been Lex's security on the other end of that call. He debated following her, but ultimately decided that it was best to leave her alone.

* * *

><p>Oliver parked his car in the alleyway behind the Talon, intent on heading up to the apartment to have a few words with his girlfriend.<p>

As he headed for the back door of the little coffee shop, he passed by Lois's friend Lana in conversation with a bespectacled man wearing an infinitely terrible tie. Lana bore a restrained look of deep concern on her face, he noted with a small measure of curiosity. She gave him the barest of nods, which he returned, before accompanying the short man toward the end of the alley.

He quickly went inside, hurrying up the stairs and rapping urgently at the door.

Lois answered quickly, her cordless phone cradled between her right shoulder and her ear. She waved him into the apartment, then held up a finger indicating that he give her time to wrap up her conversation.

"Yeah... _yes_... no, I'm telling you, Perry, this is a good story. Not front-page stuff, but... no, it can't _all_ be front page, Perry. Even I have my limits!" She wandered in the direction of the kitchen. "Well, yes, I want that, but that doesn't mean ignoring good stories just because they're not The Story of the day! In case you hadn't noticed, right now that particular story would be the bombings in Greece, but unfortunately I'm not _in_ Greece, am I? An article about the exploitation of road crews across the country is a perfectly legitimate story, and it's surprisingly juicy."

She had leaned back against the counter, fully prepped for an eye-roll, but whatever her mentor said next caused her to shoot upright. "Are you _kidding_ me? What is _wrong_ with you? You should know me better by now. I'm not just in this for kicks, Perry. I'm in, one hundred percent, and you know I stand by my stories. You don't need to keep testing me like this."

They spoke more amicably for a minute more after that, while Oliver waited impatiently perched on the arm of the sofa. Finally, she wrapped up the conversation.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I swear, you'd think after acting as my self-appointed sounding board for two months now, Perry would be done pushing me to see if I'll back down from a story under a little pressure."

Oliver shrugged. "Maybe he's just trying to keep you challenged."

"Maybe."

"Hey, do you know who it was Lana was talking to out in the alley?" Oliver asked.

Lois's expression became puzzled. "Lana's here?"

"Yeah. I just passed her earlier. She was talking to some guy with these coke-bottle specs... sound familiar at all?"

She shrugged. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell. And speaking of... what has _you_ ringing _my_ bell at this time of day? I thought you had a board meeting?"

"Delayed until tomorrow," he informed her. "Queen Industries' CFO got caught in a blizzard in Switzerland."

"Bummer."

"Yeah. So, um... I thought we should talk," Oliver informed her.

Her eyes shut down, those infamous barriers he had been doing his best to crack down shooting rapidly up. "Uh-oh," she said, too cheerfully. "Call me a pessimist, but good things don't usually follow that phrase."

Oliver shrugged. "It's not bad, it's just... I guess I'm a little concerned."

"About what?" she asked.

It was difficult to say this. He hadn't wanted to bring it up at all, being even better at avoiding emotionally uncomfortable situations than Lois herself, but then he remembered how she had looked and sounded, laughing with Clark Kent in his barn at Thanksgiving, and knew that he had to head off potential problems before they had a chance to take root if he had any chance of keeping Lois Lane's attention.

"Lois, are you... are you getting bored of this? Of me?" he asked, opting for honest vulnerability rather than reverting to humor.

Her expression wrinkled up; she had clearly been caught off-guard. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Are _you_?"

Oliver was taken aback. "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "You're one in a million, Lois. Any man who gets bored when he has you in his life would deserve to be committed."

A soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth just long enough for him to catch a glimpse of it, and then it was gone. "Well then, where's the problem?" she asked.

"The problem, Lois, is that you pretty much ditched me last night," he said.

"I was chasing a story," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Oliver restrained a sigh. "You had the barest lead ever," he pointed out. "And it wasn't time-sensitive. It could easily have waited until this morning. Can you blame me for feeling like I got blown off?"

Lois's arms were crossed defensively and her expression was unreadable as she said, "Oliver, this is who I am. Maybe last night I was kind of looking for an excuse, but it had nothing to do with you. I just wasn't so crazy about the band. But I can't help that I drop everything to run down stories; I've finally found something I love to do, what I was _made_ to do. I've always been like this, and now I have a way to actuallyuse that to make a difference in people's lives."

Oliver felt himself falling a little bit more in love with her as she spoke. He was pretty sure, though, that it would be the wrong time to drop the L-bomb. Especially because, even though he understood her reasons for running off the night before, he still wasn't too happy about it, or with her. "And I respect that," he said. "But I still would have appreciated something a little more concrete than a twenty-second voicemail saying you were off to interview roadies for an article."

"Duly noted," she replied, her stance and expression softening. "So what do you say, since you drove all the way out here to the boonies, that we make it lunch?"

He grinned, feeling better if not entirely relieved. "I think that's an excellent idea," he said emphatically.

* * *

><p>Raya glanced out across the harbor, shading her eyes with one graceful hand. The sun was setting, and as the golden orb dipped down toward a horizon shaped only by the gentle waves of Puget Sound, the lens effect of the atmosphere warped the yellow star's appearance. Now looking huge and a sullen scarlet that stained the clouds, it could almost have been Rao casting baleful light over the West Coast.<p>

A light wind had sprung up along the shore. If Raya were not impervious to temperature, she probably would have been cold. Seaside so late in autumn wasn't so comfortable, she was given to understand. For appearances sake, she probably should have at least put on a jacket. The last thing she wanted to do was arouse human suspicion.

Her quarry still eluded her.

Two more dock workers had turned up over the past twelve hours, eviscerated and left as little more than steaming piles of meat and bone fragments, but she had been unable to trace the Zoner. She was positive he hadn't left the docks, but whatever ability he had to cloak himself was more effective even than she'd anticipated. She was going to have to change her tactics.

Raya approached the problem as she always did: scientifically. What did she know about the being she was stalking?

The fugitive was hungry. He fed on bones, particularly the bones of bipedal humanoids. He was on the hunt. Although capable of attacking many people at once, he had displayed a preference for picking off his targeted meals one by one.

Logically, then, her best choice was to fly over the docks and see if she could spot the Zoner the next time he attacked someone, keeping a particular eye on workers alone or in pairs on isolated areas of the wharf. She hadn't wanted to take to the sky if she could help it (flying being a little too conspicuous), but she took a gamble that the darkness stealing over the land as the sun slipped deeper beneath the horizon would conceal her from upturned eyes.

Raya lifted off at top speed, rising several kilometers into the sky above the bay. From there, she hovered, all her superior senses tuned to the goings-on at the wharf.

The breeze, stiffer at this altitude, played with her hair. The sounds of the bright city just beyond the docks lured her with the promise of a much more enjoyable evening than the one she was currently experiencing, but she had a mission. Jor-El had saved her for a reason, and she was sure now that the reason had been to help Kal-El just as she was doing now. She would help him protect his beloved Terra, and all the people who called it home.

A faint yelp was carried to her on the wind, and Raya turned her head, the better to hear. Sure enough, she caught the barest sounds of a scuffle and when she focused her enhanced vision in that direction, she spied the fugitive at last. Leveling her body out, Raya shot forward; silhouetted by the last rays of the sun, she streaked like an arrow toward her target.

* * *

><p>Lana had been quiet ever since she arrived back from wherever it was she had gone after she got that mysterious phone call, Clark had noted. It made him wish that he had listened in on her when she left after all. Something else had happened, and whatever it was, she wasn't sharing.<p>

"Is everything okay?" he asked, hoping that maybe she would talk about whatever had happened.

She pasted on a forced-up smile that looked more like a grimace of pain. "Fine," she said curtly.

The pair of them were following Chloe and Jimmy through the twisting labyrinth of the Daily Planet's sub-basement in the direction of one of the empty rooms in which Jimmy had set up the equipment he promised would help them find Lex. Though most of the rest of the building was deserted by eight in the evening, this far underground the fact-checkers were still going strong, and a few of the office doors stood open.

"Lana..." Clark said, hesitantly, "Did something happen?"

"No. Should something have?" she asked, and if he hadn't been paying attention, he would have believed her.

"It's just, you seem kind of tense," he pointed out.

"Lex is missing," she said in that same clipped tone. "Why wouldn't I be tense?"

She was hiding something. It had always been a problem of hers, Clark reflected. Lana hated being left out of the loop with a passion, but she had never had any compunctions about withholding information herself, when it suited her. He hadn't really realized it until now, but he was beginning to see that she was pretty fond of keeping secrets, herself. As they walked, Clark thought about their shared history and began to see a pattern. Yes, Lana had kept a lot of secrets over the years, hadn't she? Some of them had been big and some of them small, like all her little white lies to Whitney, but the fact was that she hid things. Did that make her a hypocrite, he wondered. Maybe. But perhaps it wasn't surprising that Lana preferred to play her cards close to her chest, considering the life she'd lived.

Clark thought he might be starting to understand why it bugged her so much when he would hide things from her. The difference was, when he lied to her, he was doing it to keep her safe. He wasn't sure who Lana was protecting.

It was an unnerving series of thoughts to be having about Lana, the girl he'd loved as long as he could remember, but he was glad. He had made a conscious choice to try to move on from Lana, because he didn't want to be hurt any more. Maybe this was just part of the process. How many times had Chloe and, for that matter, Lana herself, told him that he didn't really see her? He remembered a conversation they'd had back in high school, when she'd told him she feared he had her on a pedestal she could never measure up to. Was this what she'd meant by that? Maybe it was time he got to know Lana Lang, his friend and ex, instead of Lana Lang, the girl he'd fallen for long before he'd ever spoken to her.

"It's right down here," Jimmy called back to them, pointing down yet another branching hallway. "Brace yourselves, because I think I've figured out what happened to Lex."

Lana's pace noticeably picked up, but Clark had frozen in his tracks.

An office door belonging to one of the proofreaders stood open. The pair of men inside were hard at work, their television turned down low in the background. This was what had caught Clark's attention.

"_...explain the mysterious series of explosions and seismic tremors rocking the dockside south of Seattle,_" a female newscaster's voice exclaimed in harried tones, "_but police have cordoned off wharf and an elite strike force has been called to the area._"

The grainy footage that was obviously being aired live which accompanied the reporter's narrative showed from a distance the cargo stacks along the wharf lit up by a series of small fires, and every so often a burst of new flame would briefly illuminate the scene.

Clark's eyes were glued to the TV, barely hearing Chloe call to him in confusion.

"_I just... I can't believe what I'm seeing!_" the reporter said.

On the screen, a tiny figure in white and blue lifted into the air, barely visible in the night. Beams of bright light burst from the figure's eyes, striking something not visible to the camera. An unholy roar sounded, muffled by distance, but still audible on the television. Clark knew immediately what was happening.

He turned away abruptly, to see Lana, Chloe, and Jimmy all staring at him.

"Clark, what's the matter?" Chloe asked.

"I have to go," he said urgently.

Lana's dark eyes grew wide, then narrowed in confusion and a modicum of anger. "Go?" she asked sharply. "Why?"

"I don't have time to explain," he said, turning away from his friends.

Lana reached out and grabbed his elbow roughly, jerking him back around with surprising force. "Clark!" she exclaimed. It was a tone he recognized. He had only ever heard it when they were fighting over something serious. "How can you leave right now?"

"Lana, it's important," he said.

"That _freak_ has Lex trapped somewhere!" she spat angrily. "What could possibly be more important than that?" It wasn't really a question, though. It was an accusation.

Ordinarily, Clark would have backed away and patiently extracted himself from the situation, or perhaps asked her what "freak" she was referring to, but there wasn't time. Raya was in trouble, he was sure of it, and he'd be damned if he was going to let her get hurt.

"Lana, let go of me," he commanded. "You know me. If this wasn't urgent, you know I'd stay and help however I could, but _this cannot wait_."

Lana dropped his arm as if scalded, looking at him with eyes brimming with betrayal.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised. Then he took off at a quick jog back around the corner.

Once he was sure he was out of sight of Lana and Jimmy, he switched into super-speed and became a streak of scarlet racing across the Great Plains, angling northwest for Washington.

* * *

><p>The beast leapt into the air, making a grab at Raya's ankles. He almost caught her, missing only by inches... which was impressive, because she was almost a mile up. She sagged in exhaustion, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep airborne much longer. A few minutes previously, he had bitten her, and apparently his race produced some kind of toxin, because she could feel herself weakening. Her Kryptonian physiology and the effects of the yellow sun were the only things that had saved her from immediate death, she was sure. Even as strong as she was, the creature's venom was having some effect.<p>

Below her, he impacted with the ground, shattering a ring of concrete several yards in diameter. He turned his head up to look at her with a dumb, thuggish grin on his face and malice in his bulbous yellow eyes. Raya shuddered.

This fight was not going well. She had miscalculated from the start, and she was paying for it. Initially, she had thought to sneak up on the creature and render him unconscious before he was aware of her presence, but he was both faster and stronger than she'd given him credit for. He had moved just quick enough to avoid the principle blow she had intended to land on him with her first attack, and had retaliated with a bestial ferocity she had a hard time countering. He had inflicted many wounds on her very quickly, including the vicious bite that had infected her system. That was when she had taken to the air, knowing that there was no way she could fight him hand-to-hand. Kal-El might have managed it, with his better metabolism and masculine build, but she had only a few months of solar energy stored and she was too small in comparison to her opponent. She was going to have to go about this more cleverly, because brute strength would not win her this battle.

Raya fired her heat vision again, but it didn't have the same strength than her previous attack, that had left the skin on his back bubbled and red. The venom in her blood was weakening her powers.

The creature made another leap for her, and to her horror, Raya realized that her failing flight path had taken her into his range. As he neared her at terrifying speeds, she performed an acrobatic flip in midair, skittering just out of his range in the nick of time. As he sailed past her on the downward curve of his jump, she used her momentum to strike out with one boot-clad foot, catching him viciously across the face. He let out a furious roar of pain, and his surprisingly graceful trajectory was disrupted and he went tumbling end over end back to the ground.

Thinking quickly, Raya used the last of her flight reserves to shoot downward at incredible speed, slamming directly into his injured back at the exact moment he collided with the ground.

If he had landed anywhere else, it would have been a killing blow. By some misfortune, however, the Zoner's leap had carried him to where the smaller fishing boats came in at a series of wooden docks. As Raya collided with him a thick wooden pile pierced his shoulder, eliciting a howl of pain. But rather than slamming him with terrific force into the concrete that covered the shoreline, the pair of them plunged straight through the dock they landed on and into the freezing waters of the Sound.

Raya lifted out of the water and managed a limping flight to the shore, where she had to grab onto a nearby crate to keep her feet.

The Zoner was slower to recover but recover he did, hauling himself over the shattered end of the pier by sheer brute strength. Blood poured from the shards of wood protruding from his right shoulder, and his left eye was reduced to a bloody pulp where she had kicked him, but he was still standing strong.

"How the hell are you still standing?" she spat out.

"Strong bones," he replied through mouth dripping scarlet. "Strong blood."

He wasn't invulnerable, not like a Kryptonian, but there were races out there who were nearly so, and Raya feared that her opponent was one of these. He certainly had a pain threshold that was off the charts and that, combined with her own flagging powers, made her very afraid that she was in over her head.

"I'm sending you back to hell where you belong," she said, nonetheless. If living through Krypton's two most deadly wars had taught her anything, it was that sometimes bravado could buy you enough time to do something clever.

His bloodied face contorted. "You can't send me back to the Phantom Zone!" he growled.

"I can and I will," she bluffed.

"You would have if you could," he said.

Okay, she'd give that one to him. He might be thick as a rock despite his incredible physiology, but he at least could use rudimentary reason. On the other hand, the few seconds he'd been distracted had given her a chance to catch her breath. She still felt weakened, but she was no longer on the verge of collapse.

At nearly twice the speed of sound, she hurtled across the yards between them and landed a series of painful blows to his leathery skin. She knocked him back and back again, giving him no chance to recover and no way to counter her speed, until he tumbled right off the end of the pier once again. He floundered in the water, disoriented and hurting from her attack, but she was sure he'd recover. Surprisingly, however, he sank out of sight beneath the water's surface.

She paused a moment to debate whether leaping into the water to confront him was a wise plan (on the one hand, she could hold her breath under water and she was pretty sure he couldn't, but on the other hand, she'd be slower underwater and her agility was her only real edge at this point with her other powers flagging so dramatically).

Before she could make up her mind, Clark sped up to her.

"What are you-?" she gasped, surprised.

"You made the news," he said. "I thought you might be in trouble, so I came as fast as I could."

Raya smiled at him. "Thanks," she said. "Your timing couldn't be better."

Clark touched a swelling, bloody knot on her forehead. "You're really roughed up," he said.

"I've been hurt worse, Kal-El" she said, brushing away his fingers.

"Where did he go?" he asked.

She glanced again at the turbulent water beneath them. "I think he sank."

Clark looked down as well. "Don't suppose we can just cross our fingers and hope he drowns or something?" he muttered.

Raya snorted, an action she immediately regretted because she was pretty sure her nose was broken. "I wouldn't bet on-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the wooden slats beneath them splintered and the creature they were discussing erupted up between them, grabbing Clark by the collar as he shot past and causing Raya to lose her balance and fall into the water all over again.

The Zoner slammed Clark into the shore, landing heavily on top of him, stunning him long enough for the hulking creature to pin him securely.

Clark struggled fruitlessly, his limbs pinned at just such an angle that he couldn't get free to land a blow.

The Zoner licked his lips, a mad gleam entering his sickening eyes. "Your Kryptonian blood must make you strong," he growled. "Perhaps I should taste it... and then little Blue-Eyes, too." One hand with its grey-green claws in place of fingernails reached out toward Clark's throat.

Abruptly, he was yanked from his place atop Clark's chest and slammed backwards against the concrete.

Raya had intervened. Her move saved Clark, but inadvertently put her in harm's way. She was weak and her reflexes were slow, leading her to stumble as she tossed their foe over her head. She dropped down to one knee, but the slip gave the Zoner enough time to recover and grab her by the throat. He lifted her high into the air, then slammed her down over his knee. Her bones made a sickening crunch as they broke, and Raya screamed.

"No!" Clark shouted. He had scrambled to his feet and launched himself toward the embattled pair, but not quickly enough. The creature thrust his hand through Raya's supposedly unbreakable skin as though it were made of butter, reaching through her flesh for the base of her spine, but Clark got there first.

He seized the beast by the wrist, yanking him off of Raya's prone form and gripping so hard he could feel the Zoner's bones being pulverized beneath his fingers. His opponent let out an animal roar of pain, lashing out with his free hand to knock Clark back.

Clark recovered quickly and threw a tremendous punch, and the creature staggered back, clutching his face where Clark had shattered part of his skull and stumbling to his knees.

He took the reprieve to return to his injured friend's side. She lay on her side, body contorted strangely, her face very pale and her blonde hair lying in a tangle all about her head. He took Raya's hand gently, brushing golden strands from her face. "Raya?" he enquired in a low whisper. "Can you-?"

But he shouldn't have turned his back, because the Zoner recovered much faster than Clark had anticipated. He grabbed Clark from behind, yanking him away from Raya and lifting him up in the air, too.

"That really hurt!" the Zoner growled.

Clark flailed, trying to land a blow on one of the already injured areas and break free, but the way he was held precluded that possibility.

And then, suddenly, the creature let out a raspy shriek like the whistle of a tea-kettle and collapsed. Clark rolled and recovered his feet, trying to work out what had happened.

A hole had been ripped clean through it, the edges of which were steaming faintly. If the beast had anatomy even remotely like a human's, his heart had been ripped clean out. Someone- or something- had killed the other combatant, saving Clark in the process. He looked around, and caught sight of only a faint streak of red racing across the horizon. He hesitated for a moment longer, watching the place where the streak had disappeared in hopes that he or she or it might reappear, but the night sky remained dark.

He turned around... and there was Raya. She lay in a pool of blood, her wounds obviously grievous.

Clark rushed to her side. "Can you hear me?" he asked gently, placing an arm around her shoulder.

Her eyes were half-lidded, but she made an effort to look at him. "Sorry..." she started, then coughed, before continuing: "Sorry I c-can't... share in your d-destiny..." Her voice was low and weak, not much more than the barest breath of air passing through her vocal chords. He was pretty sure one or both of her lungs had been punctured.

"Don't talk," he said. "I'm going to get you help."

Raya made a weak motion that might have been intended as a shake of the head. "Won't... help..."

He felt his throat constrict and his eyes started to burn. "No. No!" he protested. "No, you're gonna get better. I'll take you to the Fortress, maybe Jor-El can-"

He fell silent when her hand touched his chest. Although he could tell it caused her a great deal of pain to move, she had reached out and placed her palm flat against his solar plexus. She stared at him with those huge blue-green eyes, her gaze very clear and very direct. "It's alright," she said in an amazingly strong voice. "Don't... don't you _dare_ blame y-yourself." It was an imperial command, and she held his gaze for a long moment, impressing her will on him by the sheer force of her eyes.

Then her body went slack, her hand dropping from its place on his chest, and her eyes closed.

Clark let out a shaky breath, pulling her warm body close to his chest. "No," he whispered. He closed his eyes hard against the tears, refusing to believe it. He buried his face in her fair hair as he struggled for composure.

"No!" he protested again, this time angry. He surged to his feet, cradling Raya's broken body in his arms, and he ran faster than he'd ever run before. Employing a trick he'd learned from Bart Allen, he accelerated to approaching light speed, running on water right across the Pacific until he reached a place where the sun shone on the other side of the world. When he arrived somewhere in the Middle East where a noonday sun was blazing overhead, he laid Raya gently down on a flat boulder, arranging her limbs and using his x-ray vision to carefully reset her shattered spine.

Then he waited. He waited for the sunlight to work its magic.

But minutes passed, and her heart did not beat.

"Raya?" he whispered, brushing back a lock of blonde hair again. "Come on. You survived in the Zone for twenty years. You can fight this."

She did not open her eyes. Her bones did not knit back together. The wounds on her face and body did not heal. She just lay there in her white shirt and blue jeans, blood staining her clothes and matting in her hair.

Clark dropped to his knees, his heart already accepting what his head would not. He clutched at her slim, cooling hand with both of his own and rested his forehead against the edge of the stone she lay on. The tears he had struggled successfully against back in Seattle came pouring hot down his face, and he sat there by her side until the sun passed overhead and twilight fell over the Eastern Hemisphere.

* * *

><p>Jimmy looked around the empty space designated Level 33.1 on the LuthorCorp floor plan with skepticism on the brain.<p>

The had successfully rescued the heir to the Empire of Evil, and Jimmy had to admit, he was way more proud of that than he probably should have been. But hey, it had been a masterful piece of technological triumph, if he did say so himself. Though he could have done without the front-row seat to Lex Luthor giving Chloe's best friend a tongue bath in the aftermath.

It turned out that Lex had been kidnapped by a former mental patient with the ability to skip between frequencies. The bespectacled Mr. Bronson had wanted Lana to reveal the existence of some secret laboratory- supposedly housed on this floor- where meteor infected people were held captive and experimented on. And to be honest? Jimmy was pretty sure he hadn't been all _that_ crazy.

"Whatever was on this floor wasn't your typical cubicle farm. There's enough power pumping in here to light up Metropolis," he observed.

"Something tells me it wasn't just for the fluorescent lights," Chloe said by way of agreement.

"Well, it's just a matter of time til I get to the bottom of it!" Jimmy proclaimed sincerely.

Chloe put her arms around his neck, giving him that sexy flirtatious smile that drove him crazy. "You really manned up and got right into this fight," she observed.

"See? You had nothing to worry about. We saved the day, and we didn't need Clark after all."

She giggled. "Are you kidding? Clark can't hold a candle to The Infuriator."

Jimmy was just leaning in to kiss her when Lana exited the express elevator. He groaned internally. Was a chance to kiss his girlfriend uninterrupted too much to ask for?

"You guys find anything interesting?" Lana asked.

"I've got to say, this all just feels a little strange," Chloe said, stepping out of Jimmy's arms. "Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe Bronson was telling the truth?"

Lana scoffed, but Jimmy noticed that her hands were clenched tightly enough to make her knuckles turn white. "And this was some secret laboratory? Chloe, I don't think Lex would have given us clearance if he had something to hide," she said. But she sounded like she lacked conviction.

"Lana, you've got to admit, Lex does have history..." Chloe pointed out.

The tiny brunette squared her shoulders. "I know," she said. "Lex has done some bad things in the past, and I know he was less than honest with me about the halfway house. The thing is... I know him. You can't prove 33.1 existed. But even if it did, morally questionable or not, I would still understand why. These people who have been infected by the meteors... they're dangerous. A lab like the one Bronson imagined would be unethical, but learning about these freaks would help us to protect ourselves."

"Yeah, but locking people up? Don't you think that's a step too far?" Jimmy pointed out.

Lana shrugged. "Yes, it would be. But like I said... you can't prove that this lab was anything more than the figment of Bronson's imagination."

Jimmy admittedly couldn't argue with that, but he was pretty sure Lana was wrong. There had been something unusual on this floor, and he wanted to find out what it had been.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Lana said, "I have to go. Lex said he had something he wanted to talk to me about."

* * *

><p>Just north of Smallville, between the state park and the farmland, there was a patch of unrestricted timber that bordered on a few soybean fields. A little creek ran through it, and it had been a favorite play-place of Clark's when he had been a child. He found it a convenient place to escape to now, to be alone with his thoughts. He had no desire to hole himself up in his loft just now. He just felt... stunned. Like it hadn't really sunk in yet.<p>

They had held a funeral for Raya that afternoon, three days after her death.

It had just been himself, Chloe, and Martha. They had performed traditional Kryptonian funeral rites, which he had researched in the Fortress. It seemed appropriate. Raya had loved Earth, but she hadn't belonged to it the way he did. A human ceremony wouldn't have been fitting.

Martha had helped him clean the blood from her face, and he had used candle ash to inscribe the symbols of her names on her forehead. 'Raya' had been given precedence, but he had included her former name as well. The girl Kivana Lei-Ra deserved to be rememberd just as much as the woman she had grown into, and he thought (though he knew she would never have said it out loud) that she would appreciate being honored as a member of her House.

Chloe had read a piece of poetry. His mother had laid flowers around Raya's body. It had been a fitting tribute, but so much less than she deserved.

Clark had incinerated her with his heat vision. On Krypton, she would have been burned on a pyre, but no ordinary fire would touch the flesh of a Kryptonian even in death. He had collected her ashes in a little earthenware jar his mother had provided. He had carried it to the Andes, to the high peak where she first told him about his parents, and scattered her ashes there in the snow. He thought she would like that. She had loved that part of the world.

And now he was back here, in Kansas, wandering around in the woods because he didn't know what else to do with himself.

He knew how the ensuing weeks and months would go. He would grieve, and he would move forward. He would do his training with Jor-El and he would stop the rest of the Zoners, both for Raya's sake and for his own. But right here? Right now? He was at loose ends. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he was the Last Son of Krypton once more. Left alone all over again.

"Smallville?"

Clark looked up at the last person he had been expecting to see. "Lois?" he asked. "What are you doing out here?"

She shrugged. "Well, a reporter's only as good as her last article, so I'm taking your advice and running with the irregularities I found in the immigration numbers. I thought maybe if there were some people in the country illegally, they might be working as farm hands so I came out to this edge of town to see if I could talk to anyone and I was walking along the edge of the field-" She gestured through the sparse trees to where the fields beyond were visible, "-and then I spotted you walking around in here so I thought I'd come say hi."

Despite himself, Clark smiled. He was pretty sure she hadn't taken a breath that whole time. "Never let it be said that Lois Lane doesn't take her job seriously," he said.

"So what are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?" she asked.

Clark looked down at the ground, sighing. "Just walking," he said. After a pause, he added, "Raya died the other day."

Lois's eyes widened. "Oh my god," she breathed. Before Clark knew what was happening, her arms were around him in a tight embrace. "Clark, I'm so sorry," she said, her breath tickling his ear.

Clark wrapped his arms around her in return, not questioning the gesture. He needed this, he realized. His mother had offered her maternal support and sympathy as she always did, and Chloe had done her best to help him honor Raya while somehow managing to skirt tastefully around the edges of the emotional fallout of losing her, but this was what he had really needed. Lois was solid and real and warm and just as she had once before, when another blonde he'd cared for had died far too young, she kept him grounded and offered comfort without pity.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I know how important she was to you."

"Yeah," he said.

And then they were quiet. For the longest time they were quiet, and it wasn't weird, and it probably should have been weird because they weren't really the hugging kind of friends, but that was didn't really matter. They were the kind of friends who gave what the other one needed, and right now he needed exactly what she instinctively knew how to give him. He could have cried. He didn't, because he was pretty sure he'd cried out all the tears Raya would have wanted while he waited hopelessly for her wounds to heal, but he could have. Lois wouldn't have minded, and the bizarre thing was that he wouldn't have either. That was just how they were.

* * *

><p>Lois had never been good at coming up with the perfect thing to say at times like this. Give her half an hour and a piece of paper and she might be able to find the right words, but there was a <em>reason<em> she put her foot in her mouth so often. Having the right words spur-of-the-moment wasn't her style. But she'd always been an actions-speak-louder type anyway. Besides, she knew Clark too well, and she knew that what he needed right now wasn't empty condolences or more sympathy, he needed someone to lean on. That, she could do.

Maybe it should have been weird, just standing there holding onto each other, but it really wasn't. She and Clark had never been big with the awkward.

After so many minutes, Clark let go. She stepped away gracefully and looked away quickly, and _then_ it was a little weird.

But Lois didn't do uncomfortable silences. "Tell you what, let's go have a drink," she said before any tension could build up.

He looked at her quizzically, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on Boy Scout," she said. "I know you're not twenty-one yet, but guess what? I am. So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna pick us up a six pack, we're gonna go back to the Talon, and we're gonna have a drink in Raya's honor."

Clark hesitated, but ultimately said, "That sounds good."

She put her arm around his shoulder. "Come on, Smallville."

They traversed the border between woodland and winter field until they reached where she had parked her car. As she slid into the driver's seat, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Oliver: _We still on for tonight?_

Lois hesitated. She hadn't seen much of Oliver the past few days, between writing up her roadie article and trying to juggle personnel complaints at Mrs. Kent's office in Topeka, and she'd been looking forward to their date. But a glance at Clark, how tired and drawn he looked, told her all she needed to know. He needed her.

She sent a message back: _Sorry, something's come up._

* * *

><p><strong>AN**- I'm extremely sick. Reviews are medicine. (No, seriously, me and my thoroughly pathetic immune system have been really sick for almost a week.)


	15. 13: Shifting Lines

**A/N-** Here's a short little chapter this time. These two scenes actually fall into the timeline of Chapter 12 (and hypothetically could have been part of _Appear, Disappear_ if the chapter hadn't already been so ridiculously long that it had to be split into two posts). The first occurs the morning after the final scene of last chapter, and the second falls shortly after Lana left Jimmy and Chloe amid the ghosts of 33.1. So yes, chronologically these two scenes are out of order, but that's for a reason.

I know many (okay, _all_) of you are angry with my decision to kill Raya, but believe me when I say that it honestly can't be helped. I first realized in June that even as I saved Raya, she probably wasn't going to last very long. I knew all along that she would have to die. I tried to find a way around it, but it just wasn't going to happen. Both from a literary perspective, and from a plot-driven perspective, it was inevitable. Raya is the senseless crime, the wasted life that seems to have no rhyme or reason. And I think the story-serving reason is pretty thoroughly examined in this chapter, so I won't go into that in my notes. It just about killed me to do it, it really did, but it was something that had to be done. Logically, she could have lived, if I had decided to take her battle with the unnamed fugitive in a different direction.

In the end, if I saved her, I would have been doing it not because it was what was best for the story. I would have been doing it because _I didn't want her to die_. And although I put only some of my actual capacity into my fanfic, I adhere enough to the writers' code even here that I couldn't do such a thing. If I protected Raya only because she was a character I adored, I would be serving my own interests, not the story's. I think, however, I did do her one small justice and that is this: she did not serve only as a plot point. To the actual SV writers, I think Raya served only the purpose of moving the story forward. If I have achieved my goals here (and judging by your reactions, I have), then Raya became more than "that Kryptonian chick that died that one time." She was a person. She lived and breathed and had quirks and hopefully you were as invested in her as I was.

That's the only gift I can give to Raya in Shatterpoint. I made sure that when she died, it actually meant something. Maybe some of you shed tears for her. That's all I could do for her here. Here's to hoping that in some future story, I'll be able to do more.

* * *

><p>13. Shifting Lines<p>

"_I am no solution_  
><em>To the sound of this pollution in me.<em>  
><em>And I was not the answer,<em>  
><em>So forget you ever thought it was me.<em>"  
>-The Goo Goo Dolls<p>

* * *

><p>Martha Kent surveyed her son with a critical eye as he poured himself a glass of lemonade. She was worried about him. That wasn't an unusual state of affairs, to be honest. All parents worried about their children, and Martha had more reason to fret than most mothers. Her concern for her only son had become an almost perpetual state of affairs since losing her husband, his father.<p>

In the weeks since Raya had descended upon his life like a whirlwind, she had seen a change in him. He had seemed happier, comfortable in his own skin in a way that she had never seen before. It was a blessing to know that her confused son was finally finding a way to come to terms with his life and his heritage.

In one senseless second, however, Raya had been killed and Clark had lost a tangible link to Krypton that Martha sensed he had desperately needed. She worried that this latest blow might send him spiraling out of orbit once more, and she didn't know if she would be strong enough to pull him back this time. She hadn't been able to do it after losing Jonathan. She had been too lost in her own grief to be able to find the right words, and it had only been Clark's own nature that had saved him then. Martha honestly didn't know how to handle this.

He hadn't come home last night. Or at least if he had, it had been very late, long after she herself had gone to bed. He had disappeared after Raya's immolation and she hadn't seen him until this morning, when he brought in the milk.

"Clark-" she began gently, uncertain on how to broach the topic. "How are you doing?"

He set the glass in the sink and looked over at her. "I'm... doing," he replied tiredly.

"I know this must be hard for you," Martha said, a soft opportunity presented in case her reticent son felt like opening up to her.

Leaning back against the cabinets, he braced his hands against the countertop. "It feels like I was only just getting to know her," he said.

Martha nodded. "She was an amazing woman," she said. "I think we're all lucky to have had her in our lives if only for a short time."

One corner of Clark's mouth twitched upward. "Meeting her- it changed everything. Everything I ever thought about Kryptonians... she turned it all on its head. And it's not just that, either. I liked her. She was-" He hesitated, and Martha waited patiently while he struggled with whatever it was he was trying to say. He visibly wrestled with himself for almost a full minute, and when he finally spoke, he seemed to have changed directions.

"It never bothered me that I was an only child," he informed her. "Once or twice I wished I had a little brother or sister to share my secret with, but it wasn't something I thought about much. But lately I've wondered- I look at Chloe, and she doesn't have any siblings but she still has a sister. She has that kind of bond with someone. I wondered what that would feel like.

"I had a cousin," he added abruptly. "Her name was Kara. I saw her picture at the Fortress. I found myself wondering what it would be like if Krypton hadn't been destroyed, or if Kara had made it to Earth with me and we'd grown up together. I regretted that so much, having lost this person who might have been like my big sister if things had been different, but it was alright. Even though I'd lost Kara before I even knew her, I still had Raya. And we weren't blood relatives, but in a lot of ways, she _was_ family. She could have been like a sister. But now she's gone."

Martha stepped closer and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Clark," she said.

He stared up at the ceiling, and she wondered if he were hiding the brightness she was sure was in his eyes.

"Do you know what the last thing she said to me was?" he asked. "She told me I wasn't allowed to blame myself."

She had worried about that, too. Clark had a noble- if somewhat naive- tendency to take responsibility for every tragedy that befell the people around him. She could understand why, but it worried her. It couldn't be healthy for his young shoulders to bear all that weight.

"Ever since she died, I've been racking my brains, trying to find something I could have done to save her," he said.

"Clark-" Martha began, but he interrupted her.

"The thing is... I _can't_," he said, looking and sounding completely nonplussed, as if having the realization for the first time. "I keep going over everything that led up to her being killed and there's just... nothing. I did everything right. We divided up the workload on everything that was happening that day in the way that made the most sense. The second I thought she might be in trouble, I left right away to help her. I don't know. Maybe if I'd been a little faster... except that I just don't see how I could have been."

Martha tightened her grip on his shoulder in reassurance. "That's because it _wasn't_ your fault, Clark," she said.

He nodded slowly, still with that air of bafflement about him. "I know. I wish it had gone a different way, but I don't see how I could have stopped it."

That helpless feeling was one she could identify with completely. "It's natural to feel this way," she told him softly. "If we all had crystal balls, maybe we could find a way to stop tragedies like this from happening, but even the best of us is fallible. Even when we do everything right, sometimes things still happen that we can't control. You did the right thing, but-"

"But I couldn't save her," Clark finished.

"The two of you did save a lot of people, though," Martha pointed out.

A little smile pulled at his mouth. "I know," he said. "If she hadn't intercepted that thing when she did, he could have killed a lot more people. I still don't understand what actually happened there at the end- who it was that saved me- but it could have been so much worse."

The pair of them stayed silent for a few moments, both going over their private thoughts.

Breaking the stillness after a minute or so, Martha asked, "Now that I'm sure you're going to be alright, would you care to explain where you were last night?"

To her amazement, her ordinarily stoic son blushed crimson. "I, um... I was at the Talon," he said.

Unable to discern the cause of Clark's uncharacteristic reaction, Martha asked, "What, with Chloe?"

He shook his head and avoided her eyes. "No. I- I ran into Lois yesterday afternoon. I kind of gave her the cliffnotes version of what happened to Raya and we ended up going back to her apartment and-"

Martha's mind was cooking up all sorts of scenarios to explain his sudden awkwardness, most of which she did not want to imagine in conjunction with her son. She was relieved, therefore, when he mumbled: "-And we had a couple of beers."

"Clark Kent!" she exclaimed.

"I know I'm underage, but I-" He held up his hands in flustered apology. "Alcohol doesn't affect me, but it just felt... like the right thing to do? I don't know. Don't be mad at Lois. She was just trying to help, and- well, she's really easy to talk to. And it got really late so I just ended up crashing there."

Martha studied him with a look of maternal disapproval, just enough to make him squirm a little. "I don't want to hear of this happening again," she said sternly. She held his gaze, impressing her seriousness on him, before adding, "That said, I know how upset you were after yesterday, and I'm glad you were with Lois instead of wandering around by yourself. Just because you're invulnerable doesn't mean I don't worry about you."

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said sincerely.

"I know you are," she replied.

In truth, she was a little relieved. The ideas Raya had planted concerning the exact nature of Clark's relationship with one Lois Lane were clearly getting to her. Although she certainly wasn't too pleased with the actual nature of what Clark had gotten up to the night before, underage drinking was definitely an improvement over some of the things she'd been imagining.

The more she had thought about it, the more she realized that Raya was correct and there really was something very unique between her son and her tempestuous chief of staff. She didn't know entirely what it might be, and heaven knew they didn't. If anything more than friendship ever came of it, she hoped that it would happen under better circumstances. With the way Clark and Lois could be with each other, any romantic relationship they might or might not have would have the potential to be something special. If it ever happened, the pair of them deserved a better beginning than an unexpected encounter brought about by grief and hazy from alcohol. A few drinks shared between two friends was a far better outcome for the evening, even if wasn't entirely on the right side of the law.

She ruffled her son's hair with a smile, wondering if he realized just how often he sought Lois out when he was distressed.

* * *

><p><em>Two days earlier...<em>

Lana almost ran up the walk to the front door of the mansion. The insistent tug in her gut that drew her inexorably back to Lex was driving her forward. Ever since his return, she had clung close to his side. The terror that his disappearance had provoked was not easily shaken. She still felt that he might vanish away from her at any moment if she didn't keep him close. Almost as soon as Jimmy and Chloe had left in triumph the night before, what had started as a simple kiss of reassurance from Lex had quickly detoured to the bedroom- or, more accurately, the divan in the solarium. Their passionate coupling had gone a long way toward calming her fears, but her irrational core was still refusing to believe that he wouldn't just vanish once more.

The only reason she had been persuaded to travel to Metropolis to meet Chloe and Jimmy that evening on the empty floor Bronson had claimed housed some kind of experimental facility was because Lex himself had urged her to go. For the sake of their relationship, he said, he didn't want her to have any doubts that he was being truthful. After his mistakes with the halfway house and the RL-65, Lana was eager to do anything that would take the final step to reinstating her faith in him.

Her curiosity had been satisfied, and now she was eager to return to her lover's side.

She found him just as he was coming out of the library.

"That was fast," he remarked. "I thought you'd be gone at least another hour."

She shrugged, smiling gently against his lips as he leaned in to kiss her without even giving her a chance to respond. Once he relinquished her mouth, she said, "I saw everything I needed to see. 33.1 was just a figment of this guy's imagination."

"Of course it was," he replied. "You know I would never do something like that."

"I do know. And I didn't want to be gone too long, anyway," she added.

A rare smile graced his features, and he studied her intently. "Come with me," he said, taking her by the hand.

She grinned flirtatiously, thinking she knew exactly what he had in mind. She was surprised, therefore, when he led her in the direction of the study rather than the bedroom. Her assumption was further shaken when he threw open the doors to the study and led her into a room transformed. The furniture had all been moved, replaced by dozens of little tables of varying heights, each covered in long-stem scarlet roses. White tapers flickered in silver holders all throughout the indoor garden, reflecting against the darkening glass of the windows. A low fire was laid in the grate, and Lex led her through the maze of blood-red flowers to a table at the center.

"Lana, I know things have been strained between us lately," he said. "I could feel your uncertainty, but I didn't know what to do to make it better so instead of saying something, I let it go on in silence. I should have talked to you."

"Lex-"

He held up a hand. "No, Lana, let me say this. I don't know what's made you pull away from me these past few weeks, but I'm sorry for it. I was afraid to say anything because I was so afraid I was losing you." His face was impassive, but his eyes betrayed something she was afraid to name. "Then, with everything that happened yesterday, I realized that couldn't be farther from the truth. When I heard you speaking, everything that you said when I was trapped there, I realized that what was holding us apart wasn't you. It was me. It was my own fear holding me back from saying what I really wanted to say... from asking what I really wanted to ask."

He turned to the only thing sitting on the table before them: a small silver box. He plucked it from the table and opened it. Inside, nestled in midnight-blue satin, was a massive diamond set in a silver band.

Lana's stomach dropped and her heart turned inside out as she suddenly and belatedly realized what Lex was doing.

"Lana Lang, will you marry me?"

No sweet nothings from Lex. No desperation written plain on his face. No kneeling down before her, subjecting himself to her judgment. No, Lex stood tall before her, offering her his ring and his name on her level. Eye to eye. He would not be forced down at her feet, she knew him too well to expect that. His own nature would never allow it.

With difficulty, she moved her eyes from the sparkling ring he held before him to meet his icy blue gaze.

"I..."


	16. Author's Note - Shatterpoint TBC!

This author's note is a few years late, it would seem. I don't know if there's anyone out there who still cares two bits about this fic (probably not) but I certainly still do, despite the time and distance between it and myself.

I've moved on from the Smallville fandom, obviously, though it's really my very first fandom and as such I'll never really "leave" it, and essentially abandoned this FFnet account.

_**HOWEVER**_

I just can't quite let this story go. Well, this story as well as my AU with Lois, Lana, and Chloe forming a Charlie's Angels-esque superhero squad together, but that's another project for another day. More to the point, I'm still just a bit too fascinated with this fic in particular, and having recently rediscovered some of my old notes from way back when I was first writing this fic, I can't get it out of my head. I plan on picking up where I left off and following this fic through to the conclusion I always had in mind.

Nevertheless, t's been several years and my writing has improved significantly since I first wrote this story, so before I continue it, I'll be taking it down and rebuilding it a bit, upping the quality and tweaking some of the issues I have with it, but did not have the skill at the time of this story's original writing to manage successfully. Consider it a second edition, if you will.

I'm not sure when this rebuild/conclusion will be ready for debut, but once I'm ready to go, I'm going to take this version down and re-upload from the beginning. I won't be doing so on this FFnet account, as I have a new (and preferred) one now, but never fear— when this story is once again ready for public consumption, I'll be posting another notice here on this old version so that you'll know where to find the new version!

To anyone who's borne with me through the... god, it's been a good three years, hasn't it! Anyway, if anyone's still out there who read this back in my so-called ~glory days~, I want to thank you for still giving enough of a shit to click on this when you saw it on the lists again, and I look forward to revealing the second edition of Shatterpoint to you in the future!

-The Artist Formerly Known As Ace


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